A Shattered Amell
by mcomommy
Summary: A young girl with a terrible fear meets a kind man who represents the thing she fears. Will she be able to get past her terror to see who he really is and fullfill her true potential?
1. Meetings

**Meetings**

"Hurry, Sha," Jowan hissed as he rushed down the hallway. "You know how Senior Enchanter Sweeney gets. Can never tell any of us apart, so he always thinks we're trouble makers."

"I'm hurrying," Shattered called back to him, balancing her books precariously.

"Hurry faster! We're already late."

Shattered shuffled along, trying not to drop her books. With them stacked in front of her, she couldn't see much, making it an easy task for the rug to trip her. She cried out, tumbling to the floor, her books scattering everywhere.

"Jowan, help me, please," she called, looking to her friend at the end of the hall.

Jowan looked back at her, shifting his weight indecisively. "I'm sorry, Sha," he said finally, turning to scurry away from her.

Shattered knelt on the floor, feeling completely hopeless for a moment before steeling her nerves and hastily gathering her books. Sr. Enchanter Sweeney would surely be cross, but at least she could try to make him understand. It certainly was better than sitting on the floor feeling sorry for herself.

"What are you doing?"

The question caught Sha off guard, she hadn't heard anyone approaching. For a brief moment, she thought Jowan had returned to help her, relief flooding her as she turned toward the voice, only to see a templar standing over her.

Panic and terror washing over her, Shattered scrambled to the wall, huddling in a tight ball against it, sobs wracking her body. Just seeing the templars was enough to give her the shakes, to be stuck anywhere with one, alone, was unthinkable. Memories of her childhood came rushing back to her, causing her to whimper and press closer to the wall.

"Please, Ser Templar, I'm a good girl," Shattered cried out. "I tripped and dropped my books. I didn't mean to be late; I didn't mean to be bad." She squeezed her eyes shut, but in her mind she could see the templar from long ago towering over her.

* * *

_"__Get her out of my sight," Uncle Aristide was shrieking even as he hit the tiny girl child in front of him. "She's ruined us! Dumar will get the seat because of her," his large fists pummeled into her again and a cracking sound could be heard from the four year old's ribs. "I will kill her!"_

_The tiny child screamed in pain, her hand reaching toward her mother, Revka, right before Aristide broke her arm. Revka was sobbing, tears streaming down her face as she tried to pull away from the servants that grimly held her back._

_ "__No, please! My baby! Stop uncle, you're killing her," Revka cried hysterically._

_The templars burst through the front door, shocked at the sight that greeted them._

_ "__Maker's breath, man, what have you done?" Before them on the ground lay a broken and bruised child. It was clear she would need medical attention, quickly, if she were to survive. Both of her arms and one leg lay at awkward angles, at best, dislocated, at worst, multiple fractures. Bloody froth trickled from her nose and mouth, gurgling up with every shallow breath she took. Tears and blood made their way down her small, bruised face._

_ "__They've come to kill you, mage," Aristide sneered in her face. "That's what templars do. They kill bad girls that are mages."_

_The tiny, battered form started to cry, a horrible gurgling wail._

_As one of the templars gathered her tiny body up as carefully as he could, the other turned to Aristide Amell. "What is her name, Serrah? We'll need to know what to call her."_

_Lord Aristide Amell spit on his own floor. "She's shattered this family's chances at power, the hideous little abomination. Call her that, if you wish to call her anything, before you kill her," he waved dismissively. _

_The templar looked to Revka, but the woman was far too hysterical to make any sense. "Well," he said, "you've certainly shattered her." Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "Takes a big man to beat a child within an inch of death." He joined his counterpart as they took their leave of the Amell estate, leaving Lord Aristide sputtering and indignant._

_The mages of the Circle healed her physically, but mental scars run deep. It didn't stop her from cowering, teary eyed, at any templar that neared her. The words from her uncle echoed through her head whenever she saw the sword of mercy emblazoned on their breastplate. _

* * *

Over the past ten years in Kinloch Hold, Shattered had gotten much better at seeing the templars about. It was only when alone with one that the irrational fear they would kill her for no good reason would race through her veins. This templar had a good reason. She was late to her studies. Sr. Enchanter Sweeney had likely sent him to find her. Had likely given the templar instructions to kill her on sight for being a bad girl, for being a mage.

Shattered sobbed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she wished she could turn into a mouse and scurry away.

To her surprise, the templar removed his helm and knelt before her. "Are you all right," he asked, concern on his features. "Are you hurt? Do you need help?" His eyes searched her face.

Cullen's heart stuttered in his chest. The girl's face was filled with terror. He wanted to wipe it away, to make everything better. She was beautiful, he could get lost in her violet eyes. In his heart, he knew he would do anything in his power to chase her fear away and make her smile.

"The Sr. Enchanter didn't send you to kill me," she whispered suspiciously.

Cullen smiled, "No. I just happened upon you. Would you like a hand with all of these books," he offered.

Sha swallowed nervously. "As you like, Ser Templar."

"Cullen," he said, putting his helm back on.

"As you like. Cullen," she said quietly.


	2. Revelation

**Revelation**

Gathering his nerve, Cullen tapped at the door to the Knight-Commander's office. Hearing the gruff voice of his superior answer from inside, the young Templar took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

"You wished to see me, Knight-Commander," he enquired, pleased that he had managed to not squeak. Having taken his vows to the Chantry only a few months prior, Cullen was sure he had stepped out of line somehow to be called before the Knight-Commander. He kept his body rail straight, inwardly cringing over the browbeating he was sure he was about to receive from Greagoir.

"Ah, very prompt. That's a good sign," the Knight-Commander stated, looking up from his desk to eye Cullen. Greagoir ran a hand tiredly over his face and gestured for Cullen to be seated across from him.

Still unsure if he was there to be punished, Cullen sat at the edge of the seat, clasping his hands together in front of him.

Crossing his arms, Greagoir sighed. "I have a special mission for you, Ser Cullen," the man began. "There is an apprentice within our care. She is by all counts a kind heart who cares greatly for her fellows. Her magical aptitude is astounding. First Enchanter Irving and I both agree that she would be a great asset to the Circle."

Greagoir paused, frowning, and stood to pace behind his desk. Cullen shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure what this had to do with his summons. The Knight-Commander stopped his pacing, gazing out the window in his office that looked out over Lake Calenhad toward the docks.

"There is a problem, however," he continued softly. "This apprentice I speak of has suffered greatly in her past. Because of this, she holds a great fear of Templars."

Cullen's ears perked up, his fidgeting gone as he wondered if Greagoir could be speaking of the frail girl he had met in the hallway recently.

"The Grand Cleric is of the opinion that the girl should be made Tranquil," Greagoir shook his head, turning to look at Cullen. "I disagree. I have watched her grow from a child to the cusp of womanhood. In the ten years she has studied here, her alarm at the very sight of a Templar has lessened considerably." The man moved to stand next to the young Templar. "Whatever the Circle mages wish to think of me, I would not have a mage that is not a danger be made Tranquil. Time is running out, though. The Grand Cleric has given us until the end of the year. At that time, she will either undergo the Rite of Tranquility, or be Harrowed."

The Knight-Commander placed a strong hand on Cullen's shoulder. "Cullen, I need your help."

Cullen swallowed, nodding. "What would you have me do, Knight-Commander?"

Greagoir moved back to his desk. "You will be her guardian, her shadow. I will be taking you off of regular watch rotations, but I want you to follow Miss Amell; stay near her acting as though you are on post, if you must. Do anything you can to aid her; befriend her. She is not much younger than yourself; it shouldn't be too hard to get close to her." The man sighed deeply. "She has a great potential, Cullen. I would not see that snuffed out before it has been realized. We must get her to a point that the Grand Cleric will not demand she be made Tranquil."

"Ser, what if," Cullen bit his lip, looking away from his superior. "What if she wishes to go outside?"

Greagoir frowned, shaking his head. "She would not wish to leave the Circle. She would see it as an act punishable by death."

"Ah, no Ser," Cullen clarified, "I meant for herbal study and such. I am aware that some of the apprentices may get permission to collect and even grow herbs here on the island."

Smiling, Greagoir nodded. "That," he said, pointing to Cullen, "is the kind of thinking that will save our apprentice. Being outside the tower walls would help her see the Templar accompanying her as more of a protector and less of a threat. As long as she is escorted by you, I give you my full permission to go where and do as she wishes. Within reason, of course," he added as an afterthought.

Cullen nodded. "I have one other question, if you will, Knight-Commander." Greagoir nodded his head gravely. "Might I inquire into the circumstances that occurred to cause this…terror in Miss Amell?"

Looking suddenly very old, Greagoir sighed. "You have a right to know, since you will be dealing with her on a daily basis from now on. I would think less of you had you not asked." The man took hold of a scroll from his desk, walking to stand next to Cullen; he looked down at his subordinate. "This scroll does not leave this room, nor do its contents get discussed outside of this room, am I clear?"

Cullen swallowed harshly, nodding his acceptance. The Knight-Commander sighed, then finally handed the scroll over. He walked to the office door as Cullen broke the seal to unfurl the parchment.

"I will be gone from my office until the noon meal, Cullen," Greagoir said softly. "You will leave the scroll on my desk before you leave. If you wish to speak of the contents, we will do so after we've eaten." Knight-Commander Greagoir quietly slipped out of his office, leaving Cullen to read the capture report from eleven years ago of a four year old child called Shattered Amell.

"Maker, give her strength," Greagoir thought, as he briefly leaned against the door after closing it behind him. Shaking himself, he strolled through the tower halls, making his way toward the first floor library where he knew that Sha would be studying at this time of day.

Quietly, he slipped in, taking up a spot along the wall as he watched the girl he loved like a daughter pour over books. When she'd first arrived so long ago, his heart had ached for the tiny child. The mages in Kirkwall may have healed her wounds, but that didn't make her any less broken. He wanted to protect her, and he certainly didn't want to think of her as Tranquil. Those former mages were creepy, and he couldn't bear the thought of Sha becoming one of them.

Greagoir sighed as he watched her. "I hope I have chosen the correct course of action," he thought. "Her life depends on it."

* * *

Cullen skipped the noon meal, choosing instead to remain in the Knight-Commander's office. His guts were roiling. How could anyone have been so cruel to a child? He ran his hands through his hair, his heart aching at the images the report had described. Such a small girl, no wonder she had been terrified when he had come upon her in the hallway. For a trusted family member to have done such a thing was unthinkable.

"Ah, I see you're still here," Greagoir said, entering the office. "Was there something further you wished to know?"

Nodding grimly, Cullen met the older man's eyes. "Did the monster that did this meet justice?"

Greagoir moved though the office, taking the seat behind his desk. "Not the justice you speak of, but justice none the less. From what I hear of the Amells from the Knight-Commander of the Kirkwall Circle, the family has spiraled into obscurity. It will no longer be a name attached to a position of power in the Free Marches." The Knight-Commander inclined his head. "If there is nothing else?"

Cullen stood, moving toward the door. He paused, his hand resting on the door handle. "Where is she," he asked quietly.

"Sitting in the back corner of the first floor library. You will know her by her violet eyes," the Knight-Commander answered him.

With a nod, Cullen left the office, striding purposefully toward the library.

Pushing through the doors, Cullen took a deep breath to steady himself. There she was, her back to the corner, her nose fairly pressed to the page of the book she was reading. A smile tugged across his face watching her, his heart speeding up.

Moving over toward her table, he arrived just as the tower's mouser, Mr. Wiggums, pounced in the middle of Sha's study material, scattering books and parchment to the floor in a fashion typical of a cat who thinks petting it should be everyone's first priority.

Sha let out a musical laugh at the cat's antics, making Cullen's blood heat up. How could someone so beautiful be so broken inside? He knelt down, reaching for one of her fallen books, and met her hand as she bent to retrieve it.

They both froze.

Slowly, Cullen raised his eyes, meeting the violet ones that had plagued his dreams since first seeing them. Even now, he could see her fear shining brightly at him.

"Hi," he breathed out, softly.

She stammered at him, "I am so sorry, Ser Templar, I – Cullen?" Her brow furrowed in confusion, but he could see some of her fear fade from her face.

Rocking forward slightly into a kneeling position, Cullen lifted his helm just enough to show his lop sided grin, letting her recognize the face that went with his voice.

"Would you like some help gathering your things," he enquired, reseating his helm.

"As you like. Cullen," she said his name tentatively, a small smile quirking the corners of her mouth and leaving the Templar feeling like the breath had been knocked out of his body.

Cullen was grateful that his helm hid the flush he was certain was climbing his cheeks as he gazed at her through the helm's eye slit. "Maker," he thought, "she is beautiful. Please, help me save her."


	3. Sunshine

**Sunshine**

Sha shifted nervously, clutching her satchel to her chest.

"Are you sure it's okay," she asked quietly.

Cullen smiled gently at her, beckoning with his free hand. "Of course I'm sure. Knight-Commander Greagoir himself authorized it." Seeing Sha still rooted in place, Cullen raised the bucket he carried in his other hand, jingling the tools inside it. "It'll be fun," he said. "You'll get to dig around in the soil, get dirty, maybe find some earthworms."

Carroll chuckled from his post next to the tower door. "Yeah, that sounds like a grand old time, right?"

Sha stared at him, her violet eyes opened wide and her knuckles turning white from the tight grip she was keeping on her bag.

Shaking his head, Cullen asked, "How have you managed to pass your herbalism classes so far?"

Blushing, Sha's gaze dropped to her toes. "I, um, have an arrangement with Neria. She, uh, gathers twice the amount of plants needed, and I do all the mixing." Shattered shifted nervously, glancing up at Cullen.

He smiled at her. "Don't you think it's time you gathered your own ingredients?"

Sha shuffled forward, stopping before she crossed the tower door's threshold. She bit her lip. "I've never…I mean, I haven't," her eyes sought out Cullen's, pleading. "Not since…" She looked away, blushing.

Comprehension dawned in Cullen's eyes. "You mean to say you've never set foot out of the tower since you arrived here?" The color darkened in Sha's cheeks, giving him the answer her mouth couldn't work out.

With a gentle smile, Cullen reached out and pulled one of Sha's hands from her satchel. He tenderly cradled her delicate hand in his armored one, ignoring Carroll's incredulous stare. "Don't worry," he said softly, "I'll be right here by your side. I won't let any scary spiders carry you off," he teased.

Sha smiled tremulously as she looked up at him. Cullen took a step forward, tugging at her arm. Shaking, she took the last step past the massive iron doors that caged the mages and into the sunshine for the first time since coming to Kinloch Hold.

Cullen stood in the early morning light, taking a deep breath, enjoying being out of the tower on such a fine spring day.

Sha watched him, then imitated his actions. "It smells green," she said in surprise.

"Green?" Cullen laughed down at her. "I did not know a color could smell."

Sheepishly looking down, Sha answered, "Then what would you call it?"

"It smells like spring," he said. "Everything is fresh and just starting to grow. The trees are budding, the flowers are blooming," he sighed happily. "Life is starting to move forward." He smiled down at her. "Come; let's get moving so we can start your garden." Cullen released her hand and moved down the steps.

The twinge of disappointment she felt at the loss of contact surprised Sha as she hurried to stay close to the templar. "Are we going far," she asked.

"The other side of the island," Cullen called to her, over his shoulder. He kept up his ground eating stride, desperate to keep ahead of her until his blushing stopped. His heart was still hammering from holding her hand, despite his gauntlet having kept him from touching her skin directly.

Sha squeaked with surprise. "Why that far," she asked breathlessly, her shorter legs unable to keep up with Cullen's long ones. "Can we slow down a little?"

"You'll see," he grinned, a twinge of shame at having set such a brutal pace for her causing him to slow so she could catch up. "It's one of my favorite places on the whole island."

Sha eyed him, "Okay, Mr. Mysterious," she teased. "Can you at least tell me what's in the satchel?"

He nodded. "Of course. That's our lunch, as well as the seeds we'll be planting for your garden."

"You're quite serious about this, aren't you?"

Smiling, Cullen paused, turning to look at her. "I am very serious about this. I think it'll be good for you to have a reason to come outside."

Wrinkling her nose, Sha looked up at the templar before her. "What's good about being outside? I'm more likely to get into trouble out here."

"How do you figure," he asked, raising an eyebrow at her before continuing onward.

"Well," Sha began, "what if a templar," Cullen glanced at her, "I mean, another templar, not you – "

"Oh, so I don't count as a templar now? Good to know," Cullen teased her, smiling.

Sha rolled her eyes at him in exasperation. "Oh, you know what I mean! Now will you let me finish?" Cullen laughed at her, nodding. "Okay, so another templar comes along, and doesn't believe me when I tell them I have permission to be out here? He could run me through and I would bleed all over the place." She clutched at her abdomen, hands on an imaginary wound.

Cullen gaped at her as she let out a small gasp, weakly raising the back of her hand to her forehead and staggering theatrically against him.

"There would be blood and tears everywhere! It would be very dramatic," she nodded for emphasis.

"Did you just make a joke?"

Sha bit her lip and looked away. "Maybe?"

Cullen tsked at her. "Don't worry," he said, daring to glance at her. "That's why I'm here, to stop something like that from happening." He smiled reassuringly.

"Okay, and what if you fall down a well? What then? I could be going to get help, and this other templar would see me and run me through without letting me tell him you're in trouble. Then you would die and I wouldn't be able to stop it."

The anxiety in her voice startled Cullen. Sha bumped into him as he stopped walking, turning to look down at her. She blinked up at him, anxiety bright in her eyes.

"This is really bothering you, isn't it," he asked. She looked away, biting her lip, and nodded. "Don't worry, the templars here all know you, they're not going to run you through just because you're outside."

She raised her eyes to look at him, tears trembling at the corners. "You would die in the well," she said, fear cracking her voice.

It shook Cullen as the realization hit him, "You're not afraid that you'll be killed, you're afraid I'll die because of it?"

She nodded, the tears spilling out to fall over her cheeks. Cullen sat his bucket down, and put an arm around Sha to pull her close. She stiffened a moment, before leaning her head forward to rest on his chest piece.

"Are the templars so terrible that you have to be so afraid of us," he asked softly.

Silent sobs wracked Sha's body, choking her throat with emotion. "I don't want you to die in a well," she managed.

Cullen sighed, rubbing his hand in soothing circles across her back. He really wished he was out of his armor. It would be so much more comforting to have her pressed against his chest without the plate between them. "I'm not going to die in a well," he said softly.

"I know," she choked out. "I know it's irrational to think so, and that it's irrational to be so afraid when the templars here have never lain a hand on me," she took a shuddering breath. "Knowing that I'm being irrational doesn't help me stop it, though."

He cupped her cheek in his palm, guiding her face up so she would meet his eyes. "Don't worry, Sha. I'll never let anyone hurt you." She gave a half hearted smile and wiped at her tears, nodding. "I promise you," Cullen said fiercely, his heart thudding in his chest. He leaned his head down, gently pressing a kiss to her forehead and breathing in the scent of her. Raspberries. Always, she smelled like raspberries. He wondered how she managed that.

Cullen coughed, releasing Sha and stepping back to nervously rub his neck. "We should, uh, we should keep going. We're almost there." Sha nodded at him, rubbing her sleeve across her face.

As they topped the crest of a small hill a few minutes later, Sha stopped, staring at the landscape before her.

"Wow," she breathed out softly, eyes wide as they took in the lush green grass, edged by dark evergreens. Sha's gaze traveled over the rippling waves of grass, following the line of the landscape as it gently curved to a narrow, sandy shore where the waters of Lake Calenhad lapped soothingly.

"Do you like it," Cullen asked uncertainly.

Smiling brilliantly, Sha turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "I love it."

Relief flooded the templar. "Good. Now you just need to decide where and how big you would like your garden."

"Are you sure you want to share this with me," she asked uncertainly, turning to face him. "I know you said this was your favorite place on the whole island, and I can definitely see why." Sha looked around the glade longingly. "You don't think a garden will ruin it?"

"Of course not," Cullen scoffed. "I think it'll be nice."

Sha smiled, setting the satchel down and putting her hands on her hips. She surveyed the glade, breathing in the sweet scents of lush grass and new sap heavy growth. "How about over there, by the trees," she asked hesitantly, pointing to a spot by a large rock next to the tree line.

Cullen nodded. "Sounds good to me. We'll need to pull the grass out, then till the ground. Why don't you go decide how big you'd like it to be and I'll join you in a moment to start on the grass?"

Sha smiled, nodding at him, and skipped her way over toward the spot she had picked out. Walking carefully, she measured out a few paces from the rock, eyeing the size of the plot between her and the rock.

"Cullen, I – Cullen!" Sha gaped at the templar as he worked the buckles of the plate skirt of his templar uniform. His chestplate and pauldrons were already off, resting on the ground.

"What is it? What's wrong," Cullen snapped his head up, looking around.

Sha's eyes were wide as she looked at him in the simple linen shirt he wore beneath his armor. He looked down, color rising in his cheeks as he caught her gaze.

Shrugging, he managed a lop sided grin. "I figured it would get pretty uncomfortable, gardening in armor."

Laughter bubbled up Shattered's throat. "Yes, I suppose it would," she grinned. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

Cullen smiled back at her, nodding.

* * *

First Enchanter Irving looked up at the knocking on his door. "Greagoir! Come in, come in." Irving leaned back in his chair, smiling at the Knight-Commander as he entered, shutting the door behind him before dropping into a chair next to the First Enchanter's desk.

"Did we do the right thing," Greagoir asked, sounding old beyond his years.

Irving sighed, opening a desk drawer and pulling out two tumblers and a bottle of scotch. He poured them each a generous splash, passing one of the glasses to Greagoir before answering. There was no need to ask who the Knight-Commander was referring to; the two men had been friends long enough Irving thought for sure by now they could read each other's minds. "We've given her the only chance we can. Beyond this, we can only hope she finds a way to stand on her own."

Greagoir savored the slow burn as the scotch warmed his belly. "I just wonder if we've made the right choice, pushing them together like this." He gazed into his tumbler, swirling the dark brown liquid.

"I see," Irving looked at his friend with sympathy. "You're afraid they will turn out like your relationship with Wynne."

Greagoir took a deep breath, running his hand over his face. "Yes," he said quietly. "I don't want them to know the pain of having a child and never being able to ask after its fate."

Irving clapped his friend on the back, splashing more scotch into his tumbler. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there," he said. "She will stand on her own, eventually. But first, she'll lean on him," he smiled. "It will all work out."

Greagoir looked at him and sighed. "I hope so. May she forgive us all."

* * *

Cullen stood up, dusting off his hands on the seat of his pants. "There, almost ready to start planting the seeds." He smiled, surveying their handiwork. Between the two of them, it hadn't taken long to pull the grass from the area Sha had picked out. Afterward, they had loosened the soil using the hand cultivator Cullen had carried in the bucket, and then dug rows with a trowel. Cullen nodded in satisfaction.

He turned to Sha, picking up the bucket. "I'll head down to the shore and get us some water. We'll let it soak into the soil before planting the seeds," he smiled. "It'll give us a chance to eat our lunch while we wait."

Sha nodded, watching Cullen stride away. She sighed, relaxing against the warm rock behind her. The past few hours had been torture. Feeling the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the dirt in her hands, and all the while being able to smell Cullen. The more he worked, the more his smell had permeated the air. Musk and metal, warm flesh and the distinct tang that screamed male.

Shattered took a deep, calming breath, rubbing at her cheeks. She kept having to remind herself that he was a templar. Looking across the glade, she smiled, wondering how she was going to reign in her wild imagination and stop the inappropriate thoughts that crossed her mind every time she saw Cullen's muscles ripple under his shirt.

"Sha!" She started at the sound of his voice, jumping at the panic she heard there.

"Shattered! I need you!"

She started running, legs pumping as she sprinted in the direction his voice came from, fear dumping adrenaline through her.

Cullen came into sight, kneeling at the edge of the water, a dark form lain out next to him. He looked up, pleading in his eyes.

"Please, help him! Heal him."

Sha swallowed, fear and panic making her tremble. She dropped to her knees next to the man, taking note of the purple tunic that marked him as a templar. Her eyes widened as she saw the wounds crossing his chest and shoulders, his breath shallow and ragged.

"I don't know if I can save him, Cullen," she raised her gaze to look at the templar, panic shaking her voice.

Cullen nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. "Do what you can," he said, standing up, "I'll run back to the tower and get more help."

"No please, don't leave me alone," she cried out, reaching to grab Cullen's arm.

He looked down at her, gently squeezing her hand before removing it. "I have to," he said softly. "He needs help. I'll be fast, I promise."

A sob caught in Sha's throat as Cullen turned, breaking into a swift run to get help from the tower. Taking a deep breath to center herself, she reached out, sinking her magic into the templar before her.

Her brow furrowed as she glanced over his body. The wounds he suffered from were great, but there was something more. Something in his blood was poisoning him, corrupting him from the inside; she could feel it every time her magic touched him.

Shattered doubled her efforts, pushing her healing magic to pull the man back together.

A strong hand with an iron grip clamped around her wrist, breaking her concentration and making her gasp.

"You must…must stop…them..," the templar gasped out, his eyes boring into hers.

Startled, Sha stared at him, her mouth agape. "Stop who," she finally managed to force through her numb brain.

"Stop…them…before a…blight..," he gasped out, his breath hacking and irregular. He sucked in air once, twice more, and then went still.

Shattered blinked at him. "No! No, no, no, no, no," she cried out, tears falling from her eyes. She pulled her magic to her, sinking it desperately into the body before her.

He didn't respond; the Templar had died in front of her.

Shattered curled up on the beach, her knees pulled tight to her chest, arms wrapped around them as the tears fell. Her magic raged around her in waves, her power rippling and cascading around her as all of her nightmares flashed through her mind.

She hadn't been able to save the templar laying dead on the beach, and in her mind, she couldn't save Cullen, either.


	4. Raspberries

**Raspberries**

Greagoir strolled across the apprentice's practice room, coming to a halt next to Irving.

"She seems to be doing well, considering," Greagoir remarked, jerking his chin in Sha's direction.

Irving nodded, his eyes never leaving the lithe young mage as she swirled magic energy between her hands, mouth set in a determined line.

"I had thought she would have a set back after that templar business." Irving crossed his arms, smiling in satisfaction as Sha produced a force field around herself. "It seems quite the opposite. She has been so focused, so determined in her studies, it's as if she doesn't even notice the templars." The instructor working with Sha launched a fireball at her. The force field held.

"They still haven't found the creature that attacked Ser Douglas," Greagoir said gravely.

Irving sighed. "And what of the others who were sent with him to bring back Anders?"

Shaking his head, the Knight-Commander replied. "Nothing. I've sent scouts to the north, but haven't heard back from them yet. The last report I received indicated they were headed toward West Hills."

A look of concern crossed Irving's face. "You don't think..?"

Greagoir shook his head. "No," he said, "Ser Douglas was suffering from more than his wounds. Some sort of corruption. But it was not from magic or a demon."

"What of her," Irving asked, nodding toward Sha.

"I've had Cullen resume some of his templar duties."

Irving raised his eyebrows, turning to the Knight-Commander. "So soon?"

Greagoir gestured to Shattered as she began casting another spell. "She's been doing remarkably better. I couldn't continue keeping him off the roster forever." He shook his head at the First Enchanter. "Don't give me that look. He'll still be around. Just not as much. Next month, he'll be around less. She won't even notice."

Irving's brow furrowed. "I'm certain you will do as you feel best."

Sighing, Greagoir looked away. "Then why do I feel as though the ground will open up and swallow me when you say that?"

The two turned, hearing Enchanter Leorah call to Shattered. "That's enough for today. You've done well," the elven mage clapped her pupil on the back approvingly. "You're free to spend the rest of the day in the library, if you wish."

Sha smiled, nodding and wiping the sweat from her brow. "Thank you, Enchanter Leorah," she replied, making her way to the door.

Irving put his hand on the Knight-Commander's shoulder, turning his friend to force him into meeting his eyes. "What's done is done," Irving said. "She'll be fine. Come, let's go have a drink."

* * *

Shattered made her way to the library. She had to get stronger. She couldn't let that happen to Cullen. Whatever that had been, that killed the templar on the beach. If only she had been stronger…

Sha opened the Spirit Healer manual in front of her, grim determination on her face. She _would_ get stronger.

Cullen fidgeted in the library doorway. The supper hour had come and gone with no sign of Shattered. He figured he would find her here, pouring over her books. Sighing, he looked down at the basket in his hand. It seemed so silly, now. When he'd been escorting apprentices about the island on their hunt for herbs, the raspberry bushes had called to him, pulling at his senses, reminding him how Shattered smelled every time he got close.

"No turning back," Cullen muttered to himself, squaring his shoulders and striding through the library toward the lone figure hunched over in the corner.

"Shattered," he said softly, reaching her side.

She jumped, rubbing at her eyes and offering a smile. "Cullen," she said, yawning. "Oh my, I'm sorry! I must've been here longer than I realized." Sha looked at him sheepishly.

Cullen marveled at the change in her. Only a few short months ago, Sha would've curled into a trembling ball at having a templar alone in the same room with her. Sitting the basket on the table, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I, uh," he coughed. "I was outside earlier. With some of the other apprentices. I, umm, I saw this raspberry bush and it made me think of you." Cullen stopped, grimacing as he mentally kicked himself.

Sha gingerly lifted the edge of the napkin covering the contents of the basket. Raspberries. Ripe, red, juicy raspberries. Squealing in delight, Sha popped one into her mouth, giggling and making rapturous faces as the sweet taste of the fruit hit her tongue.

Relief flooded Cullen, his body relaxing as he watched her. A wistful thought hoped he could make her look so joyous again.

"You like it," he asked tentatively.

Sha nodded, another raspberry already in her mouth, staining her lips a bright red. Cullen licked his lips, focusing his eyes away from her mouth. Maker help him, his blood was boiling in his veins.

"I know," Shattered cried, a grin spreading across her face. "Your birthday is coming up soon. I could make a cake for you. With the raspberries."

Cullen stared at her unbelievingly. "I can't believe you remembered."

Sha looked away, blushing. "Well, you're special to me, Cullen. Of course I remembered." She smiled up at him. "First thing tomorrow, I'll check the kitchen to make sure it has everything I'll need." Sha nodded decisively.

Nodding dumbly, Cullen watched Sha gather her things together. Still in a haze, he escorted the mage back to the apprentice quarters. Sha stopped in the doorway.

"Umm," she shuffled her feet. "This is my stop," she smiled apologetically over her shoulder.

Cullen nodded, the wheels in his head turning slowly. Shattered stepped forward, away from him.

"Wait," Cullen finally unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "I just…could you tell me something?"

Shattered smiled, nodding her head. "Of course, Cullen. What would you like to know?"

"How do you do it?"

Raising her eyebrows quizzically, Sha looked at him. Cullen ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

"How do you manage to always smell of raspberries," he tried again.

Laughter filled the hallway. Jerking her head into the apprentice quarters. "I'll show you," she turned and walked quickly in the direction of her bunk.

Cullen scowled. Looking both directions in the hallway, he shook his head. "This is so inappropriate," he muttered to himself, glaring into the room. Rubbing a hand over his face, Cullen sighed, then took a step across the threshold. Quickly, he strode forward, spotting Sha kneeling in front of a chest at the foot of her bunk.

Hearing him approach, Sha grinned up at Cullen, dropping a thick volume onto the trunk of her personal effects. She opened the tome, flipping through. Every few pages, Cullen noticed leaves pressed between the pages.

"What is that," he asked in awe, dropping to his knee next to her.

Blushing, Sha answered, "Whenever there are left over leaves from Herbology, I press them in here to preserve them." She flipped to the back of the book. "From here back, are raspberry leaves." She looked away. "I have Neria bring them to me whenever she has a chance. I crush them once they're dry, and mix them with oil."

Cullen stared at her. "You make your own perfume with it?"

Shrugging, Sha looked at him. "I guess you could say that." She bit her lip, looking embarrassed. "I just like the way it smells."

"I like the way you smell," Cullen said, his mouth running away before his mind caught up.

Smiling softly, Sha leaned into him. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek before whispering into his ear. "Thank you."

Cullen froze, blushing furiously. His skin tingled, her warm breath tickling across his skin, a burning brand on his cheek where Sha's lips had touched him.

He swallowed, before replying, his voice rough as he spoke, "You're welcome." He turned to meet her violet gaze, desire flaring through his body.

Maker help him.

The giggle of a group of apprentices entering the quarters jerked Cullen to his feet.

"I…You…I…Good day," Cullen stuttered, escaping into the hallway.

Jowan strolled over, leaning against Sha's bunk. "Somebody likes you," he said, nodding toward the door.

Shattered swatted at Jowan playfully, "Oh get out," she cried, turning away and hoping he hadn't noticed the heat rising in her face.

* * *

Cullen closed the door to his quarters in the templar wing of the tower. He rest his forehead against the cold stone of the wall, slowly clunking his gauntleted hand against the stone.

"Why her? Why a mage," he leaned back, asking as he looked heavenward. Moving over to his bed, Cullen sat and leaned forward. Elbows on his knees, Cullen buried his face in his hands.

"Why me," he whispered.


	5. The Docks

**The Docks**

*WARNING - Attempted rape in this chapter! You are warned.*

Neria groaned, slouching down on a stool next to the kitchen counter and propping her head up on her hand.

"Why did you drag me down here again," she complained, watching Shattered as the lissome mage poked about the cupboards.

Shattered brushed her lavender hair back from her face, smiling at her bored, elven friend.

"It's for a birthday cake," she said, making a check next to a few of the ingredients on her list. She pursed her lips, eyes running over the canisters in front of her.

Neria perked up. "Birthday? Whose? I know it's not mine." A frown crossed her exotic features. "Wait; is this about those raspberries you won't share with me?"

Sha bowed her head forward, letting her hair fall across her face to hide the blush she could feel rising.

"Hmm," Neria murmured, eyes narrowed on Sha. "I know it's not Jowan. He's been going on about how he's met someone," she rolled her eyes. "It couldn't be," the bored look vanished, Neria jerked upright on her stool. "a templar?"

"Oh my god," Shattered darted to the Elf's side, clinging to her slender arm. "Please, please, please! You can't tell anyone," anxiety filled her violet eyes as Sha pleaded with her friend.

Neria relaxed against the counter, smugness oozing from her as she smirked. "Well," she drawled out, "I suppose I could keep it to myself. If," she held up a finger, "if you save me a piece of this raspberry cake you're going to be making for him." She smiled.

"Sugar!"

"Well," Neria sniffed. "I didn't think it was asking so much as to cause you to use such strong curse words."

Sha clutched her friend around the shoulders, shaking with laughter.

"Oh no, I accept your terms," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I meant that there isn't enough sugar."

Neria shrugged. "If you ask Greagoir, he might give you special permission to cross the lake to get some."

Sha swallowed nervously, her laughter gone. "I…I don't know if I can," she whispered.

Patting her soothingly, Neria raised an eyebrow at her friend. "How much does this birthday cake mean to you?"

Sha slumped down against the countertop, groaning, her head hidden on her arms.

With a shake of her head, Neria patted her friend's shoulder comfortingly.

* * *

Ten minutes of pep talk later found Sha pacing in front of the Knight-Commander's open door, going over what she would say once she found the nerve to actually ask for the favor.

"The kitchen is out of sugar and I need some for an experiment in confection production," Sha rung her hands together. "No that won't work." She shook her head and started again. "Knight-Commander, there is no sugar and it is an imperative ingredient in a special recipe." She groaned. "What am I going to do," she asked the empty hallway, slumping down against the wall, hands cradling her face.

"Well, you could try a simple 'May I go fetch some sugar'. You never know how effective it will be unless you try," the deep voice of the Knight-Commander rumbled through the hall as he appeared in the doorway to his office, an amused smile on his face.

"I…I…," Sha gaped at Greagoir as he stood before her, his arms crossed easily across his chest. She blinked in surprise. His armor was missing. The Knight-Commander stood before her in the easily recognizable purple tunic of a templar, sword of mercy emblazoned across his chest.

Following her gaze, a chuckle escaped the man. "What," he asked, a twinkle in his eye, "did you think the armor never came off?"

Shattered blushed, scrambling to her feet. Ringing her hands together, she peered hesitantly into Greagoir's warm smile. He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for her to continue. Sha squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

Her voice shaking, Sha voiced her question, eyes still tightly shut.

"May I travel to town to get sugar? We are almost out and I…I need some." She opened her eyes, looking questioningly at the man before her.

Greagoir tapped a finger on his chin.

"May I ask what you need this sugar for," he asked softly.

"I wanted to make a cake for my friend's birthday," Sha answered quietly, eyes fixed on Greagoir's shoes. She kicked herself mentally. The Knight-Commander had always been kind to her, had looked out for her. She even remembered a Christmas gift of a necklace that she suspected was from him.

Rough fingers reached out, gently cupping her chin. Sha jumped, reacting involuntarily to the unexpected touch. Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to meet the steely gaze of the templar before her.

"You care for him a great deal, then?"

Biting her lip, Sha nodded.

Greagoir sighed, releasing his hold on her chin and running his hand distractedly through his hair. Pity coursed through Sha as she watched him frown, the gray in his hair and the worry lines on his face standing out in the torchlight. Turning back to the mage in front of him, Greagoir offered a smile, but to Shattered, he only looked tired.

He must be very lonely, she thought, a pang of regret passing through her that she had been so frightened of the uniform that she never noticed the person behind it was just a man.

Greagoir reached out, patting her head, the way a father might pat his child. Tears pricked the corner of Sha's eyes.

"Will you save me a slice? It has been some time since I've had a piece of cake." She looked up, teary eyes finally seeing the warmth the Knight-Commander felt for her.

Sniffling, Shattered dove into Greagoir's chest, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his broad chest.

Greagoir froze, his heart thundering. Carefully, he returned her embrace, arms folding around her delicate frame as he pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. Shattered's breath hitched, her quiet sniffling turning into gentle sobbing, tears running from her eyes to stain the Knight-Commander's clothing.

"Shh, my dear. It's alright." He pressed another kiss to her hair, his hand soothingly rubbing circles on her narrow back.

Wiping at her eyes, Shattered pulled away.

"I'll make you your very own birthday cake," she promised emphatically.

A deep rumbling laugh made its way out of the stoic man in front of her.

A smile, a _real_ smile, spread across his face, easing the pain in Shattered's heart.

"There is no need for that, my dear," he said, still laughing. "There would need to be enough candles on it to burn the tower down. Can't have that." He waved a hand at her to shoo her off. "Go on then. I will have an escort meet you within the hour to take you across to the village." Still smiling, Greagoir turned back to return to his office.

Sha peaked in the door and grinned, watching a moment as the man inside the armor shuffled papers across his desk with a happy smile on his face.

Setting off down the hallway, Sha whistled a little tune, her step light and springy.

* * *

"Miss Amell," the deep melodious voice came from directly behind her, startling Shattered into whirling about. She stepped backwards and bumped into her footlocker, nearly tumbling to the floor. Her eyes widened at the templar standing before her chuckling.

"Cullen," she squeaked, her tiny fist pounding ineffectually against the plate protecting his chest. "Don't you ever do that again," Sha cried out, the furious words not matching the smile spread across her face.

"All right, all right," he laughed, holding up his hands to ward off her mock fury. She could hear the smile in his voice even though she couldn't see it through his helm. Cullen rolled his shoulders, loosening them under the heavy plate.

"The Knight-Commander said you have an errand to run and I am to escort you across the lake," he said, his tone questioning.

Eyes narrowing sharply, Sha studied the man before her.

"He didn't tell you what the errand was for, did he?"

"No," Cullen shook his head. "Something about kitchen supplies, but that was it. He also gave me a pouch of coins that he said should cover the cost." He drew forth a small sack, the tinkling of silver could be heard inside.

Relief flooded Sha, while she had hoped that Greagoir would assign Cullen as her escort, she didn't want him knowing that they were making a special trip for his cake. She grinned up at him.

"Lead the way, Ser Templar."

"After you, my lady," he replied with an exaggerated bow.

"If you insist," she sniffed, doing a fair job of repressing her giggles.

"Oh, I do insist," Cullen's eyes twinkled through the slit in his helm as he held his arm out, indicating that Shattered should lead the way.

Shattered paused as they reached the tower doors. She stood, looking out at the bright sun and, with a smile, stepped into the light.

* * *

Cullen marveled at Sha as they crossed the lake, Kester rowing along and whistling a tune. Even shaking from fear and excitement, the mage had clambered into the boat with a determined set to her jaw. Eyes roving over her trembling form, Cullen shook his head. Whatever they were being sent after, it certainly meant a lot to Sha to get it.

His gaze wandered, taking in the mage as she sat ram-rod straight, eyes locked on the dock looming in the distance. His eyes fixating on an exposed patch of pale flesh, Cullen licked his lips. She looked so soft, smooth and fragile. Her narrow shoulders were squared in determination, hands clasped in her lap tightly. Sha glanced around, her violet eyes catching the templar staring at her.

Cullen coughed, quickly glancing away. A small smile crept across his lips when he saw the flush climbing Sha's cheeks.

"So," Cullen remarked nonchalantly as they made their way toward the Spoiled Princess, "are you going to let me in on what we're picking up here?"

Sha bit her lip, trying to hide the slight grin creeping across her face. She shook her head, drawing a sigh from Cullen.

"Didn't think so," he muttered, opening the door to the Inn with a sigh. "After you," he said, bowing slightly at his waist and gesturing Sha in before him.

Cullen surveyed the common room of the Inn, looking over the various drunks and vagrants sprawled at the tables. He sniffed. It wasn't even late enough for the evening meal and some of the patrons at the Inn were already half crocked. Touching Sha on the elbow, he passed her the coin pouch the Knight-Commander had given him, indicating that he would be near the door while she did her business with the merchant.

Folding his hands lightly together, the templar leaned against the wall, eyeing the patrons once more. His gaze came to rest on a trio of thugs huddled together in the far corner. Just looking at them raised the hairs on the back of his neck, ill intent oozing from their pores along with the stench of weeks without a bath. Cullen grimaced, thankful that his helm hid the look of disgust he couldn't keep from his face.

A giggle from the bar drew his eye, and Cullen grinned as he watched Shattered smile happily as she received a package from the merchant there. The innkeeper gave her a friendly smile and a wave, sending her back to Cullen clutching the brown paper package to her chest.

"Done already," he asked, standing up from his spot on the wall.

Shattered nodded, a grin splitting her face as she giggled at him. Cullen shook his head, smiling behind his helm while he held the door.

"Now will you tell me what's in the bag," Cullen wheedled as they walked back toward the dock, Kester still waiting to take them back across to the tower.

Giggling, Sha shook her head. "Not until after it's been put to use." She grinned up at him, skipping along beside the long legged templar.

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Cullen sighed loudly, eliciting another round of giggles from the diminutive mage beside him.

"Oh no," distress colored Shattered's voice as they reached the boat. Cullen looked at her sharply. "I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner, but the innkeeper gave me too much change," she smiled apologetically. Passing the package to the templar, Sha turned toward the Spoiled Princess. "I'll be right back." She sprinted off, her apprentice robe fluttering around her slim legs.

"She's a nice one, that."

Cullen jumped, startled, having forgotten Kester's presence. The man nodded in the direction of the Inn.

"Not many people would bother returning extra change. Most would just pocket it," he nodded approvingly. "No matter that she's a mage, she's good people."

"Yes," Cullen answered softly, a trace of wonder finding its way into his voice. "She is a good person."

* * *

Sha smiled as she returned the merchant's extra change and turned toward the door. She felt good, happy. She pushed open the door and took a step outside, her gaze falling on the tower she was to return to. A tingle of affection flitted through her. The tower looked so beautiful from here, rising majestically out of the center of the lake, a pillar piercing the sky.

She didn't notice the three shadows that had followed her out of the Inn. Not until a heavy hand clamped down onto her shoulder.

Sha jumped with a squeak, trying to turn and see who had grabbed her from behind.

"Oy, there be none 'o that, missy," a voice snickered in her ear as strong hands grabbed her arms.

"What'cha think, Bill? We got us one of them renegade mages?"

"Well now," the first voice said again, "she do look like an apo-state to me."

Fear and panic froze Shattered's insides.

"P-pl-please," came her whispering stutter, "I have p-permission."

"P-p-bullshit," the ragged voice mocked her, the man behind her pressing himself against her backside, sending rolls of nausea through Sha as she felt his arousal press against her. Tears pricked her eyes.

The men laughed at her obvious discomfort, roughly dragging her around the side of the Inn. She struggled weakly; surprised to find the men holding her weren't templars.

"No, please," she cried out, pulling backwards in their grip, "Why? You don't have to do this." Sha sobbed.

A cruel laugh met her ears as one of the group kicked her in the back of the knees, sending her sprawling face first into the dirt.

"Ah course we don't have 'ta," the one called Bill answered her. He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking it backward as he leaned down behind her. "We do it cuz we can." His hot breath felt foul as it brushed over her skin, making Sha shudder with revulsion. "See," the man continued, "if you use them magics against us, that would make you an apo-state. There'll be a purty little brand on your head next we sees ya." She felt him smile, his lips brushing against her skin. "An if'n you don't, we'll get what we want." His hand reached around to her front, grasping her breast through her robes and pinching down hard on Sha's nipple.

Shattered sobbed, and Bill laughed, grinding against her again from behind.

"No, no, no," she wailed, the tight control she'd gotten over her magic fracturing, trickles of energy shooting out unchecked.

"Ay," Bill called to the other men. "Wanna stick something in there to shut her up?"

Tears ran down Sha's face as one of them moved in front of her, hands working to untie the leather lacing his breeches shut. She looked up, nausea threatening to make her vomit as she saw the wicked smile on his face.

"Gladly," the man said, pulling out his half erect member.

Bill pulled her hair back, forcing her head toward the phallus being thrust in her face. Shattered clenched her mouth shut, tears running down her face. She could feel Bill pulling at her robes, hitching them up toward her hips.

Despair filled her.

* * *

Cullen jumped to his feet, rocking Kester's small boat.

"Hey there, lad," the old man called. "Watch yourself."

"Something's wrong," Cullen muttered, magic tingling his senses. He thrust the brown paper package into Kester's hands and jumped to the dock, sprinting toward the Inn, panic pumping through his veins.

* * *

"I said open your mouth," growled the man in front of her, raising his hand to strike her again. Shattered sobbed, keeping her mouth clenched firmly shut. Bill snickered at the muffled cry she let out when the fist connected with her face.

"Maybe she like's a bit 'a pain," he laughed, his hand ripping at her panties, tearing them in his eagerness.

"What about that templar she was with," the third man asked nervously.

"'E ain't here now, is 'e," Bill shot over his shoulder. "If'n you're so damn worried about him, keep an eye out and wait for leftovers," Bill snickered, fumbling with the lacing on his pants.

The "Sonsabitches" that drifted back as the third man turned to look around the corner of the Inn would be the last thing anyone heard him say.

Cullen didn't ask any questions when he came around the corner, and he came swinging the six foot great sword that he normally only drew during practice.

Smooth as butter, the sword slid through muscle, tendon and bone, cleaving through the man's shoulder and traveling in a downward arch through his chest before popping out the other side just under his ribs. An angry cry filled the air as the templar took in the scene before him, the path of the sword swinging back as Cullen charged forward, slicing through the neck of the man in front of her.

Bill was the only one that had time to react. With a snarl, he pushed backward, pulling Shattered's hair to bring her with him, putting her between himself and the raging templar. He pulled a knife and pressed its tip to Sha's throat, glaring at Cullen over her shoulder.

Rage filled Cullen as he saw Sha's bruised and bloodied face. He grit his teeth, looking over her shoulder at the garbage holding her. It was one of the men from the back table at the Inn. The templar seethed that a man such as this could prey upon women, upon mages. Upon Shattered, _his_ mage.

"I will kill you," Cullen grit out, murderous intent in his voice and in his eyes.

Bill laughed. "And wat, cut through your precious mage to do so?" He spat. "Back down, whelp, or I'll kill her myself." To emphasize his words, Bill pressed the tip against her skin, drawing a small bead of blood that slid down her pale throat.

With a deep breath, Cullen centered himself. He looked sadly into Sha's tear stained and bloody face.

"Do you trust me," he asked softly.

A whine escaped the mages throat, but she gave a slight nod before closing her eyes, tears glistening like diamonds in her dark lashes.

Maker help me, Cullen thought, before swinging his great sword around into a pommel strike that caught Bill in the side of his head.

The stunned man fell backward, knife dropped from his grasp, and Shattered fell forward, away from him.

Cullen stalked forward, raising his upended sword so the point hovered over Bill's throat as the man's head slowly cleared.

"Maker have mercy on you, for I will not," Cullen intoned grimly. Bill's eyes widened and Cullen's sword came down with a sickening crunch as it broke through and sank into the ground.

Quickly, the templar sheathed his blade, kneeling at Shattered's side. She was quivering, blood and tears covering her face, clothing ripped. Cullen clenched his jaw, wishing he hadn't ended their lives so quickly after what they had done. They deserved to suffer as they had made others suffer.

Carefully, he scooped Sha up in his arms, her slight form weighing barely more than a whisper. She pressed her face against his chest plate, a fresh bout of crying wracking her body. Cullen cradled her to him as he rushed to the dock.

"Shh," he soothed. "I'm here. I'm taking you home now."

"Oh, Cullen," Sha whispered hysterically, "I'm so scared."

"It's okay now," he said softly. "It's over. I'm here now." He tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as a tear of his own escaped the corner of his eye.

"I've got you."


	6. And Cake

Knight-Commander Greagoir paced anxiously back and forth, hands clasped tightly behind his back. His eyes darted from the infirmary door to the young templar at the end of the hall with his head bowed, whispering prayers to the Maker and Andraste. Frowning, Greagoir ran his fingers through his graying hair, worry lines creasing his face.

When Irving slowly pushed open the door, he found himself pinned by two pairs of eyes, concern and anguish shining clear in each.

"Calm," he said softly, raising his hands passively.

Greagoir swallowed, his voice gruff as he asked the question on both his and Cullen's minds.

"Is-Is she okay?"

With a tired smile, Irving softly closed the door.

"We've healed the worst of the damage," he said. "There will be some scarring," he held up his hands as his audience tensed grimly. "It's around her eye. We think one of her attackers had some sort of gauntlet on," the aged mage ran his fingers over his shaggy beard. "We've done all we can for her, physically."

The Knight-Commander breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm surprised," he said. "She didn't defend herself with magic."

Shrugging, Irving turned away. "Perhaps she didn't believe she was able to." He moved toward the end of the hall. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I am quite tired now and in need of a rest." He nodded politely to Greagoir.

"Can we-," the Knight-Commander bit his lip. "Can we see her," he asked cautiously.

Irving nodded his assent. "Just be careful not to disturb her."

As quietly as possible in full plate, the pair of templars crept into the infirmary to stand at the side of Shattered's bed. His mouth quivering, Greagoir reached out with a hesitant hand. It trembled over the slight mage laying before them for a moment before dropping to his side, defeat slouching his shoulders.

"I am so sorry, Knight-Commander," Cullen whispered, anguish twisting his face. "This is all my fault! I should've been watching her more closely."

Greagoir turned his back on the younger man, hiding the few tears escaping his pained eyes.

"No, Cullen. You mustn't blame yourself," he said quietly. He looked down at Sha's face, still puffy and slightly bruised. "Those vermin," the Knight-Commander's voice took on a hard edge, his fist clenched at his side, "had no business doing as they were. It makes me sick to think how many innocent mages they have preyed upon." He surreptitiously eyed Cullen. "You did the right thing, lad. Those are the kinds of people we must protect the mages from."

Cullen still looked miserable, head hanging as he leaned against the footboard of Sha's bed. Sighing, Greagoir turned, dropping a heavy hand onto Cullen's shoulder.

"Go," authority rang clear in the Knight-Commander's voice, this was no request, it was an order. Cullen let his eyes raise, meeting the composed, steely gaze of his superior. "Go and clean yourself up. Their blood is still covering your armor," eyes dropping quickly, Cullen cringed inwardly at the streak of dull red splashed over his breast plate. "You have night rounds for the rest of the week. If you wish to stand watch over this mage during the day," Greagoir shrugged. "then that is your business."

Cullen strode quickly to the door, hesitating when he reached it. He looked back at Shattered's small form buried under the infirmary's blankets.

"It's okay," the Knight-Commander assured him. "I will stay with her until your return."

Nodding, Cullen quickly opened the door, fleeing to the templar quarters.

* * *

"How is she," Carroll asked, catching him in the hallway.

Cullen's brow furrowed, he didn't pause his ground eating pace as he strode through the halls, forcing the shorter man to trot to keep up.

"They've healed the worst of it," Cullen relayed, annoyed. "The rest must heal naturally." He frowned. "The First Enchanter said that physically, she would be fine."

"Well that's good," Carroll chirped, earning a hard glance from Cullen. "What? Neria was asking. I thought I would pass it along," he shrugged.

Contrite over his attitude, a light blush colored Cullen's cheeks. Of course Shattered's friends would've seen him run in, yelling for a healer and carrying her unconscious form in his arms. He paused, patting Carroll lightly on the shoulder.

"Thank you. I'm sure they are anxious for news."

A lop sided smile crossed Carroll's features. "Happy to be of help," he gave Cullen a merry little two fingered salute before moving off toward the library to spread the news.

Cullen watched him go, shaking his head with a sigh. Pushing open the door to his room, he started ripping armor off, his templar trappings flung haphazardly about the room as he removed them in favor of clean garments.

* * *

Greagoir sighed wearily, sliding a chair over next to Sha's bed. Pulling his gauntlets off, he gently smoothed her hair back before placing a gentle kiss to her brow. With a soft touch, the aged templar clasped Shattered's hand between his before lowering himself to the chair.

Cullen cleared his throat, making the Knight-Commander jump. Greagoir wiped a hand over his face before turning a tired eye to his subordinate. He stood, old joints creaking, and gruffly patted Cullen's shoulder, nodding as he made his way through the door to return to his office.

Cullen waited until the door clicked closed behind the Knight-Commander before rushing to Shattered's side. Pulling Sha's hand to his lips, the young man bowed his head over the unconscious mage. Tears spilled down Cullen's cheeks and anguish filled his voice as his whispered apology endlessly repeated to the still form on the bed.

"I am so sorry, Shattered. So sorry."

* * *

Blinking in the darkness, Sha opened her eyes, panic momentarily paralyzing her as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings of the infirmary.

Neria's snore broke the silence, drawing a relieved sigh from Sha. She wiggled, struggling with the press of blankets holding her down, drawing an involuntary groan as sore muscles cried out in protest.

"Huh, what? I'm awake," the elf slurred, jerking upright in the chair she had fallen asleep in. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position. Her eyes rounding as they settled on Sha, the elf gave a strangled cry, burying her face against Shattered's chest.

Awkwardly patting her friend's shoulders, Sha sighed.

"It's okay, Neria. I'm all right," she grimaced as her throbbing muscles' objected to the girl's slight weight.

Slim shoulders shook as Neria sobbed into the covers.

"Neria? That kind of hurts," Sha's voice was strained.

"Oh," the elven girl squeaked, sitting up. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize-," she broke off, biting her lip, hands rubbing vigorously at her cheeks.

With a grunt, Sha slowly pulled herself upright to swing her legs off the side of the bed. She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as aching muscles screamed in objection, tendons groaning as they stretched to breaking over hard bone.

"What do you think you're doing," Neria queried through a yawn a she rubbed the rest of her sleep from her eyes.

Sha gave her a half smile as she tottered to her feet, bracing herself delicately against the bed.

"The kitchen."

"Oh," Neria blinked. "We had roast for dinner," she said, stretching. "I don't think there's any left, but there's likely still some bread." The elf grimaced as she looked down at her rumpled robes. She scratched at her backside as she walked toward the door. "I'm going to bed," she announced.

Raising her eyebrows, Sha shuffled after her friend.

"Not going to hold my hand like I'm some invalid," she asked, teasing.

Neria frowned, shaking her head. "You can't get into too much trouble getting some bread from the kitchens," she answered. "Besides, I think your pet templar is the one that drew night watch this week. I'm sure he'll keep an eye on you." She pressed a quick kiss to Sha's cheek before the stunned mage could get her mental gears to work up a retort.

Sha leaned against the wall, shaking her head as she watched Neria meander down the hall toward the apprentice quarters. Pushing off the wall, Sha turned toward the kitchens, ignoring the brittle feeling that permeated her aching body. Eyes on the floor in front of her, Sha forced one bare foot in front of the other, thankful that Neria hadn't escorted her to the kitchen to see what she was really going to do there.

* * *

Cullen clomped through the hall, his agitation telegraphing through the sharp clank of his armored feet with each step. The normally slow and boring rounds were taking far too long, stretching Cullen's patience to the breaking point. He paused as he passed the kitchen, eyes drawn to the faint glow of a lamp shining through the crack under the door. Hand reaching over his shoulder to grip the broadsword at his back, Cullen silently pushed open the door.

"Sur-prise?" Shattered ended on a squeak as she looked over flickering candles at the point of Cullen's sword. She swallowed, eyes wide as her gaze traveled down the flat of the blade, candle light flickering off of its mirror smooth surface. Slowly, she blinked, her gaze finally meeting Cullen's amber eyes.

The templar sighed in relief, shoulders slouching and arm going limp until the point of his sword rested on the floor. Tearing his helm off, Cullen dropped it and his sword to the floor with a clatter. He would've crushed the mage to his chest right then, his arms wide, itching to feel her safe in them, when he noticed the cake she held. It brought him up short, staring at Shattered, dumbfounded.

In a haze, Cullen watched himself blow out the candles. Shattered smiled at him, white teeth glittering in the lamplight. She turned, placing the cake on the kitchen counter. A hand reached out, his hand, Cullen realized. The gauntlet was missing, and he guessed he must've taken it off, but couldn't remember when. A finger dipped into the white icing, so carefully spread with a pretty scalloped edge.

His eyes flicked over to Shattered's mouth, still curved into a smile as he watched himself offer her the icing covered finger.

Reaching up, Shattered wrapped her small fingers around Cullen's rough hand.

He jerked back to himself as her pink tongue darted out, warm velvet that tugged at his soul as it licked at his finger delicately.

"Oh sweet Maker," Cullen breathed out, his resolve crumbling as Shattered pulled back, smiling at him, a dab of missed icing at the corner of her mouth.

Reaching out, Cullen cupped Shattered's cheek with his palm. The rough pad of his thumb gently brushing the sensitive skin just below her lips, Cullen's touch left a trail of tingles prickling Sha's flesh in his wake. He leaned forward, his warm breath ghosting over Shattered's skin.

Cullen closed his eyes, shutting out the pale pink lines of scares and the fading bruises on Shattered's face.

"Please forgive me," he whispered, and then captured her mouth with his.


	7. To Protect

"Is this…," Shattered paused, licking her lips. "Is this punishment for something?"

"Oh, child," First Enchanter Irving stood from behind his desk, coming around to squeeze Sha's shoulders comfortingly. "No, this is not a punishment. You have been exemplary in your studies," he smiled, reassuring her. "I'm sending you to Redcliffe because I feel it is important for you to," he paused, eyes raising to look, unfocused, over her head, "to interact with people outside of the tower."

A shudder ran through her petite frame. "I think I've had enough…_interaction_…with those outside the tower, thank you just the same," Sha's tone was blatantly acerbic, her hand brushing over the still pink line of fresh scars surrounding her eye.

Irving sighed, shaking his head. "I meant for you to have a positive interaction." His voice dropped to a whisper, "The men that hurt you, can't hurt anyone ever again."

Sha's shoulders slumped, defeated. "Must I go," she whispered, eyes riveted on Irving's chest. "What of the midwife?"

"Not good enough," Irving shook his head. "There are…complications with the pregnancy that are beyond her capabilities."

"Then why not send a real mage! A harrowed mage," Sha cried out, glaring petulantly.

Pressing a soft kiss to Sha's forehead, Irving answered, "You need this, child. Trust me. I'm confident that you'll be able to handle whatever comes your way." He smiled. "Go. Pack a few of your things. I will send a templar to escort you."

Irving watched Shattered shuffle out of his office with a heavy heart.

"Are you sure this is wise," Greagoir asked, leaning against the doorway.

Rubbing a hand over his face tiredly, Irving shook his head. "We can only hope to replace the painful memory with one of joy. The miracle of childbirth is often enough to give hope to the lost."

"I hope you are as right as you think you are," Greagoir replied dryly, accepting a tumbler from the First Enchanter. He stared for a moment into the golden brown liquid swirling inside before knocking back the shot Irving had poured him. "For her sake, I hope you're right."

* * *

Shattered hesitated before taking the hand Cullen offered to help her depart Kester's boat. The ferryman had been extremely polite picking them up, apologizing profusely for the horrible experience Sha had suffered on her last visit and expressing his pleasure that she seemed so well. Shattered had sat silently as Kester rattled on, her face an expressionless mask with lips carved woodenly into a polite smile. It unnerved Cullen, sending a chill across his flesh to see her looking like that. He did his best to keep his eyes away from her creepy expression.

As the pair passed the Spoiled Princess, Shattered paused. Her violet eyes clouded over, pain and fear warring with each other for a moment across her face, her mind's eye replaying the scene for her. Three lecherous men exited the inn, grabbing hold of a slim young woman and forcing her around the corner.

"Shattered," Cullen spoke softly, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Sha jumped, jerking around to look up at the templar. He drew back, glad for the helm that hid how her reaction had hurt him. She looked back over her shoulder at the Princess. No men. No mage. Sha let out a slow breath, forcing a too bright smile.

"I'm fine," she said, and turned quickly away, pulling up the hood of her cloak despite the mild weather. Shattered led the way through the small town to the main road they would take south to Redcliffe, Cullen trailing behind her sullen and confused.

* * *

When sunset loomed on the horizon, they were still a day's travel from the town of Redcliffe.

Clearing his throat, Cullen realized they had gone nearly all day without speaking, Shattered trudging doggedly along while he followed in her wake.

"We should set camp for the night," he said, trying to sound light. Sha stopped, turning to him. Her hood was still up, hiding her face in shadows, but it dipped in assent, so Cullen moved to the roadside, swinging their pack and his bed roll down from his shoulder.

"Stupid…stubborn…ridiculous," Cullen mumbled to himself as he stripped off the templar armor. He glanced to where Shattered was setting out her bedroll and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "I'm getting firewood," he announced and tromped off into the trees.

Sha watched him go, sighing when he was out of site and dropping her hood. She rubbed at her cheeks, hoping her tear stains would be less visible in the dark and started rummaging through their pack to pick out dinner. Her memories of the last time she had ventured across the lake had been playing havoc with her emotions all day, and she hadn't wanted Cullen to know how much it still bothered her. Keeping it bottled up may not have been the best solution, but she hadn't wanted the templar to know how it had plagued on her mind after passing the Princess. She sighed. Now it seemed Cullen was angry with her. Colossal failure.

* * *

"Shattered," Cullen asked later, hesitantly, as she handed him a bowl of stewed meat and vegetables. "Do you," he licked his lips, stirring his food listlessly. "Are you mad that I kissed you?" His forehead crinkled, his voice anxious and uncertain as he looked up at her.

Cullen hadn't been expecting her to laugh. Shattered covered her mouth with her hand and clutched her stomach, her giggles drifting lightly along the cool evening breeze. Cullen blushed furiously, dropping his eyes to the bowl in his hands and feeling like a fool.

"Oh no! No, Cullen, please, it's not like that," Sha assured him, dropping to her knees beside him and wrapping her hands around his arm. "Feeling your kiss," Sha blushed, biting her lip. "It was the most wonderful thing I've ever," she blew out a breath, feeling the tug of heat in her hips, "the most incredible thing I could have imagined," she finished softly, smiling up at him.

The brushes next to them split open, spilling darkspawn onto their campsite, a scouting party of hideous beasts growling and roaring as they burst into the fire light.

Shattered shrieked, scrambling around behind Cullen as he grabbed for his broadsword. He grimaced, regretting having taken off his armor as he swung to block a Hurlock as it aimed a blow at his head. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Cullen's hopes fell: Shattered was two steps from turning into a gibbering, babbling mess. There would be no help from her. He jerked his arms, moving the sword to parry a second Hurlock while kicking the knee out of the first.

"Tsk. Two archers," Cullen grumbled, swinging his sword's blade back through the neck of the Hurlock on its knees.

The templar never saw the Hurlock Alpha burst into the other side of the camp and charge toward his unprotected back.

Shattered gasped, scrambling to her feet and shouting to Cullen, but the remaining Hurlock was keeping him occupied. The Alpha was going to cut him down right in front of her. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

"No," Shattered shrieked, surging forward arm outstretched. The Cone of Cold cast without her even thinking, instinct overriding fear as adrenalin flooded Sha's system. The Alpha froze mid swing at Cullen's head. Sha stood for a moment panting before it hit her.

Corruption.

Her magic could feel it from the Alpha, a crawling sensation in her skin, just like the templar that had died next to her on the shore by Lake Calenhad. Shattered sucked a breath in. _These_ were the creatures that had killed Ser Douglas.

Determination filled her. They would _not_ kill another. Shattered thrust a Stonefist at the frozen Alpha, shattering it and sending bits of icy darkspawn raining over Cullen.

_Cullen_.

Mouth set in a grim line, Sha raised a Force Field around the templar.

"Sha! What…What are you doing," he strained, unable to move or break free.

Fire blazed in the mages eyes as she cast a Crushing Prison around one of the archers, it's body contorted in agony.

"They will not have you," she cried, ignoring Cullen's pleas to be let free. She needed to end this fast, Sha realized. She was already gasping for breath. The one remaining Hurlock was still banging away on the Force Field, forcing her to continually feed it energy to stay up.

The second Genlock Archer, seeing its companion writhing in pain, trained it's arrow on the small woman in robes. Shattered staged as its arrow hit home, piercing her shoulder. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out, tasting the coppery tang of blood filling her mouth. Sha swung back, flinging her hand up, a Winter's Grasp spiking up around her enemy.

Shattered wobbled, wishing she had her staff to help focus her magic or at least to lean on, but it was at the far side of the camp and there was no time. Her vision began to blur, the arrow sticking from her shoulder was surely poisoned. Wiping at her eyes to try to clear them, Sha ignored the throbbing pain and the wet feel of blood on her robe.

When she dropped her hands from her eyes, Sha found herself blinking at the Hurlock already upon her, mid swing. She cried out, jumping back as the darkspawn's blade swung mere inches in front of her nose. It advanced, readying to swing again. Sha closed her eyes, concentrating her dwindling mana to her fingers, stomping her foot as she cast Mind Blast. The Hurlock wobbled there, dazed by the blast.

An arrow whizzed by, narrowly missing Shattered. She cursed, looking to the archer that had unfrozen without her notice. The Crushing Prison had done its work on the other; it lay in a crumpled, disgusting heap. Shattered side stepped, the archer so intent on hitting her, he shot his own comrade in the back as Sha put the Hurlock between herself and the ranged opponent. With a gurgle the hideous beast fell on its face, the arrow neatly lodged in the middle of its back.

Feeling drained, Shattered struggled to stay upright, panting as she glared at the Genlock. It snarled and gnashed its teeth, uncertain of an easy kill, but unwilling to back away. It drew an arrow, knocking it to the bowstring and drawing, sighting in on her.

"Andraste guide my hand," Shattered silently prayed, stooping to grab a sword once used by the dead Hurlock at her feet. She hurled it, end over end, in a lazy arch toward the Genlock as the creature released its arrow. A sickening thud filled the air as the arrow found its mark, piercing the mage right below the rib cage just as the sword embedded itself in the Genlock's chest, spurting foul, black blood across the ground.

Shattered looked down, hand curling around the shaft were it protruded from her flesh. She was vaguely aware that the sound of screaming filled the air, finding some small sense of pride that it wasn't her voice doing the screaming.

_Cullen._

Slowly, the mage turned toward the Force Field.

"Thank the Maker," she whispered. He was still safe, still in it. She had protected him. The Field dropped as she slowly sank to her knees.

"Oh Maker," Cullen cried, catching her by the shoulders as Shattered slipped to the side. "Oh please, don't take her from me!" Warm tears dripped from his cheeks as he gently laid the mage down, hands shaking as he looked at the arrows, unsure what to do.

"Why? Why did you do it," he cried grabbing her shoulders. He sobbed as he looked at the blood soaking through Sha's robes. "I'm not worthy." Tears filled the young templar's eyes as he rummaged through their pack looking for healing poultices and lyrium, the sharp edge of hysteria prickling his throat like a knife.

With trembling hands, Cullen lifted Shattered's head, pressing a small vial of lyrium to her lips. The blue fluid trickled across her lips and down her chin, a mere sip making it into her mouth for the mage to swallow convulsively.

"She'll need more than that, if you wish her to survive."

The deep, melodious voice startled the templar, spurring him to whirl, great sword in hand to point across the camp at an imposing figure standing just outside the firelight.

"Show yourself," Cullen commanded, his voice cracking as he hovered over the unconscious mage.

With a sigh, arms uncrossed from a broad chest and the intruder stepped forward. Firelight danced off of dark hair, pulled tightly back into a pony tail, glinting on a gold ear ring. The man rolled his shoulders, drawing Cullen's eye to the twin silverite handles protruding upward from his back. A light leather armor robe swished silently as the man came closer, crouching next to Shattered.

Cullen blinked, lowering his sword.

"We'll need to remove the arrows," he said, inspecting Sha. He glanced around. "Not bad," the man praised. "Four…no, five darkspawn." He nodded at Cullen approvingly. "Taken by surprise without your armor. Well done."

Blushing, Cullen looked down and shook his head. "It wasn't me." He nodded to Sha. "It was her."

The man looked up in surprise from his examination of the arrow in Shattered's stomach.

"I can only claim one kill," Cullen shrugged sheepishly.

"Hold her still, she may fight this," the man said gruffly, his hand firmly gripping the arrow shaft. Cullen set his mouth in a determined line. Pressing calloused hands firmly on Sha's shoulders, he nodded his readiness.

With one swift jerk, the first arrow was out, contorting Sha's unconscious form with pain. Cullen bit his lip, anguish stabbing at him over causing Sha more pain.

"Don't lose your backbone on me now, lad," the man said grimly. "We've got one more to go."

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Cullen nodded. With another jerk, the second arrow came free, fresh blood bubbling out of the wound. Carefully cutting away the material of Sha's robe, the man scratched at his beard thoughtfully. He drew two vials from his pouch, moving to tip them between Shattered's parted lips.

"What," Cullen suddenly found his voice. "What is that?"

Raising a dark eyebrow, the man held them up for inspection. "A simple health restorative and a poison antidote," he remarked dryly.

Suspicion narrowed Cullen's eyes. "How do you know so much about what she needs? Who are you, anyway?"

The man eased the contents of the vials between the mage's lips before thumbing over his shoulder in the direction of the dead bodies, "I was actually tracking those darkspawn."

"Alone," Cullen asked, incredulously.

A deep rumbling laugh met his ears, causing him to glance away from the man before him.

"No, not alone. One of my brothers was injured, so camp was set a little ways from here. I went on alone, hoping to slow the spawn, or try to kill them before meeting any unsuspecting travelers." He smiled wryly, "I seem to have failed at both counts."

"Those are truly darkspawn," Cullen asked, eyeing one of the creatures skeptically. "And just why were you hunting them?"

"Which brings us to who I am," the man smiled, pearly white teeth shining brightly in his dark, leathery face. "I am Duncan, Warden Commander of the Grey Wardens of Fereldon." He bowed his head politely, as if he were meeting a king at his court instead of a lowly templar in a camp along the side of the road.

"Truly? A Grey Warden," Cullen's eyes danced with childhood stories of deadly warriors and mythical creatures. He felt a twinge of regret at not being able to see the man in action. He glanced down at Shattered, a thought chilling him to the bone. "If they are darkspawn, then does that mean that she…," he trailed off, swallowing around the tightness in his throat.

"No," Duncan replied. "I don't sense any corruption in her; it is only the poison that has sapped her. She also seems to have drained all of her mana. The exhaustion that could cause has likely helped lower her defenses against the poison." He stood, brushing his hands along his legs. "If you have another vial of lyrium, give it to her. More carefully, this time," he smiled ruefully.

"What about you?"

Duncan smiled down at the templar. "Well, first I'm going to stack those bodies into a pyre, and then I'm going to rejoin my fellows." He gave Cullen's shoulder a reassuring pat. "She'll be fine. Bandage her up, no sense risking unnecessary infection." Cullen nodded, watching as the Warden Commander moved off, slinging the darkspawn bodies into a pile with a casual strength before turning to his task of bandaging Shattered's wounds.

Sighing with relief, the templar finished his task. Looking up, he was surprised to see that Duncan had already left, the pile of bodies burned sickly, the fire a dark orange and the smoke oily and dark. Cullen shuddered, remembering how the creatures smelled up close, and was glad the Warden had set them downwind.

As Cullen carefully held the lyrium to Sha's lips, his spirits lifted; her breathing was less labored. The antidote was working its way through her system. He breathed a sigh of relief. Standing, Cullen moved to the fire, poking at the contents of the cook pot hopefully.

* * *

"Cullen?"

The weak voice coming from behind him sent the templar swiftly to Shattered's side. Her eyes were blinking in confusion, pink tongue darting out to lick at her lips.

"Shh," he soothed. "You'll be all right. Just take it easy."

Shattered grimaced up at him. "Why do I taste like lyrium?"

Smoothing her hair back, Cullen let himself chuckle. Handing her the water skin, he let his eyes drink in her every move, reassuring himself that Shattered really was okay.

"You should get some rest," he said softly when she handed the skin back.

"Cullen," she sounded hesitant, drawing his dark, whiskey colored eyes to her violet ones. He raised his eyebrows, silently questioning. Shattered bit her lip, embarrassed, eyes darting away.

"Would you…let me hold you?" She looked back to him, eyes pleading. She rushed on, "Just for tonight, just so I know," she paused, squeezing her eyes shut, "so I know you're still alive?"

Cullen carefully kept his surprise hidden as he solemnly nodded, his heart pounding fit to beat out of his chest. Forcing himself to walk calmly, Cullen retrieved Shattered's bedroll from where she had lain it out earlier. He returned to her, surprise raising his eyebrows as his eyes fell on her bloodied robe, folded on the grass next to her. Heat flushed his cheeks as he realized she must've removed it while his back to her, his imagination running wild at the thought of her under the blanket in her smallclothes.

Shattered smiled hesitantly up at him. "I hope it's okay?"

Cullen swallowed, his throat bobbing nervously. "If…I…Is it what you want?"

Sha gave a shy smile, nodding. Cullen ran a hand through his hair, hot and cold clashing through him. Cullen nodded apprehensively, cautiously laying the bedroll out next to Shattered. He sat down, his back to the mage, and closed his eyes.

"Maker, give me strength," he thought to himself.

His ability to think stopped completely at the feel of her soft lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. Cullen's breath caught sharply in his throat. He could feel her slim fingers caress over his shoulders, reaching hesitantly under the collar of his shirt, nails scraping deliciously across his skin before she laid her palm flat against his chest. Cullen took a shaky breath, the warmth of her touch igniting a fire everywhere Sha's fingers trailed.

He coughed, shifting uncomfortably as the fire burning through his blood pooled into his loins.

"Shattered, please," his voice came out in a husky rumble, causing the mage to pull quickly away. Cullen looked over his shoulder at her, surprised to see her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, looking away. "I just…I thought…"

Cullen reached out, shushing her with a gentle touch of his fingers to her lips. "It's not that, it's…," he stopped, unsure how to put it into words, and pulled his shirt off over his head instead of continuing. Standing, Cullen pulled at the lace of his breeches, carefully keeping his back to Sha to hide the evidence of his arousal as his manhood throbbed painfully. Cautiously, he returned to Sha's side, pulling the blanket across himself quickly as he smiled hesitantly at her.

Shattered lay back, smiling up as Cullen reached out a shaky hand, running his fingers lightly over her stomach. Frowning, his brow furrowed as he looked at the bandage over her wound.

"Does it hurt," he asked quietly.

Sha bit her lip, shaking her head as she looked down. "No. It aches a little, but it's nothing."

He sighed, relieved, letting his trembling fingers revel in the feel of Sha's smooth, soft skin as he ran his hand up over her ribs. Shattered's breath was coming in ragged gasps, tugging at his desire as the throbbing in his member kept time with her breathing.

Cullen groaned.

Shifting his weight, he placed his hand on the ground next to Shattered's head, leaning over her. Hot breath mingled, Cullen closed his eyes, letting the smell of the lyrium on her breath wash over him, mingling with the raspberry of her hair.

Warm lips clashed together, forceful, demanding, drawing a moan from Shattered as she pressed up against Cullen's muscular body. His resolve was breaking, Sha's tongue teased against his mouth, slipping in to glide against his when he parted his lips.

Pressing himself firmly against her, Cullen hissed in a breath, the feel of Sha's taut thigh against his rigid member sending a spark of lightning through his mind.

"Shattered," he groaned.

Her breath hitched, breasts still trapped by a band pressing up against him, begging to be touched. "Don't think," she gasped, hands raking through his golden brown curls.

Surrender can be so blissful.

Cullen growled, lips finding Shattered's throat as he moved between her legs, inexperienced hands trying to touch everywhere at once as he ripped her breast band off. Calloused fingers brushed over pert breasts, thumbing over piqued nipples. Shattered cried out when Cullen pulled her smallclothes off, snapping the thin side straps in his haste. He probed at her center, one thick finger sliding through her slick folds to push inside to be tightly gripped by her damp walls.

Maker, he couldn't think.

Cullen stopped moving for a moment, resting his forehead on the ground next to Sha's head. Lean legs wrapped around his waist just before Sha started moving her hips, rocking back and forth on his finger and making Cullen's manhood twitch demandingly.

Pulling his finger from Sha's warm center, Cullen tore at his own smallclothes. Pressing his tip against her slick folds, Cullen braced his weight on his hands, leaning down to press his lips gently to Shattered's.

With a gasp and a sigh, Shattered tightened her legs around Cullen, drawing him in, pulling him past the folds and into her tight center.

Cullen cried out, his whole body trembling as he strained not to move, overwhelmed by the tight feel of Shattered's walls wrapped around him.

Sha started rocking her hips, biting her lips and moaning at the delicious friction inside her. Cullen growled, giving into his bodies desires. Biting down roughly on Sha's neck, he reached down to grip her hips tightly, thrusting into her with short, quick strokes.

Shattered's cries were getting louder, more breathless as her walls squeezed around him. It spurred on the tight, fiery feeling that was growing low in Cullen's gut.

"Shattered, I…," he gasped out, cut off as she clamped down around him, a sobbing shrieking cry tearing from her mouth as the mage's back arched. It was enough to send Cullen over the edge, the fire in his loins erupting into a starburst behind his eyes as the templar poured himself forth into her velvety depths.

Exhausted, Cullen collapsed, his large body falling onto Shattered's lissom one. Panting, he rolled, drawing Sha into his arm and firmly against his side. Closing his eyes against the night sky, Cullen heard Shattered sigh happily, bringing a smile to his lips.


	8. A Templar's Duty

Sha groaned, her head leaning against the cool stone wall of the privy as she knelt on the floor. Her stomach lurched, doubling her back over the bucket Neria had put on the floor next to her.

"Ugh," the elf wrinkled her nose. "I just knew you were getting sick. Ever since you came back from Redcliffe, you've been pale."

"I'm always pale," Shattered countered weakly, wiping the back of her hand on her mouth and slumping back against the wall.

Neria rolled her eyes. "Okay, you are _extra_ pale. Paler than normal." Suddenly her eyes went wide, making them look comically big. "It was the darkspawn, wasn't it," she whispered. "It's all over the tower. How you and Cullen got attacked. You're coming down with the Blight sickness, aren't you? You better not give it to me, or I swear," the elf shook her fist in the air as if to call down the wrath of the Maker.

Watching her friend's antics drew a small chuckle from Shattered as she sat there.

"Seriously, though, you need to get one of the healers to give you a once over."

Shattered looked up, surprised to hear real concern in her friends voice. Embarrassed, Sha looked away, rubbing her palms along her robe.

"Is he back yet," she asked, glancing at Neria out of the corner of her eye. It was the elf's turn to be surprised.

"Anders? He's in solitary confinement," her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why would you want to see him? You've always avoided him, said you didn't want trouble by association." A light went on in her eyes. "Unless…you already suspect what is causing you to be sick this past week and you don't want the Senior Enchanters to know." Neria gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Sha," she whispered, "you didn't?"

Shattered sighed, eyes glued to the floor as she slumped down. She wanted to curl up and die, but there was no way she would lie to her friend. Reluctantly, she gave a slight nod.

"By the Gods!" Neria threw her hands toward the sky. "What were you thinking? You, of all people," she shook her head. "Are you pranking me? This is some really elaborate joke, right?" Sha gave a snort, sobering the elf. "Wow." She slid down the wall next to her friend. "That's why you want to see Anders. You're not sure."

"I'm hoping," Sha bit her lip. "I'm hoping I'm wrong. That it's just a really persistent cold."

Giving her a comforting pat, Neria stood up. "Well," she said, offering Sha a hand, "there's only one way to find out. The First Enchanter lets me take Anders his food, sometimes. You'll just have to ask him if you can take it today," she shook her head. "He won't be happy about this, you know?"

Shattered's mouth drew into a thin line. "I don't intend for the First Enchanter to find out who the father is."

"No, I meant Anders," the elf clarified, "Don't get me wrong, I'm certain the boy is head over heels for me," she grinned confidently, "but you know how he feels about anything Templar or Circle. And you haven't exactly been friendly toward him."

"Can you really blame me," Sha moaned as she clutched her stomach. "He is always in trouble! It's a wonder they haven't made him tranquil yet."

Neria rolled her eyes, sending a small bit of healing energy into her friend to help quell the nausea. "And yet here you are, possibly with the get of a templar in your womb."

"You say it like you're talking about animals," Sha mumbled.

"They are! And up until a few months ago, you would've been cowering in fear, not bedding one!" Neria threw her hands up in exasperation. She glared at Sha, fists planted firmly on her hips when a suddenly horrified look crossed her face. "Holy Maker," she whispered, "he didn't force you, did he? I swear, I will tear him apart myself! After what happened to you the last time you were out, how could he even –"

"No," Sha interrupted quickly, not wanting Neria to stay on that train of thought, "Cullen would never force me! It was my…idea." She trailed off, confused as she saw a self-satisfied smirk spread across the elf's face. Sha groaned.

"I knew I would get you to spill eventually," the elf said smugly. She clapped her hands together, "Let's go! It's almost lunch time and if Irving is feeling especially nice today, you just may get to have Anders' hands all over your," she wriggled her nose in distaste, "womanly parts."

Shattered groaned, thinking how the escapist would just love this as she let Neria drag her from the privy toward the First Enchanter's office.

* * *

Irving furrowed his brow as he looked at the two girls before him.

"I don't quite understand the reasoning behind this request," he said neutrally. "Perhaps if you could explain it to me, I would be in a better position to answer?"

Neria smiled winningly at him, Shattered nervously fiddling next to her, eyes locked onto the corner of Irving's desk. She couldn't stand lying to him, there was no way she could meet his eye while doing it. Keeping her mouth firmly closed, Sha let Neria handle the messy business.

"You see, First Enchanter," Neria could act very charming when she wanted, "Shattered was just telling me how much fun she had, travelling to Redcliffe and aiding a woman in distress," she smiled sweetly, "It made me think, why not let her tell Anders? It would certainly boost his morale, knowing a mage had been allowed out of the tower. Plus," she held up a finger as though she were making a very important point, "it may let him see that good behavior is rewarded." Neria smiled confidently, crossing her slim arms over her chest.

Sighing, Irving ran a hand over his beard, smoothing it against his chest. "Very well, I will allow it," he nodded at them.

Neria smiled, thanking the First Enchanter as she tugged Shattered from his office.

Sha felt sick.

Irving sighed, steepling his fingers as he leaned forward against his desk.

"Well," Greagoir asked, stepping out from behind the screen that sectioned off the back corner of Irving's office.

Resigned, Irving closed his eyes and nodded. "It is as we suspected."

Greagoir's shoulders slouched in defeat. He ran a hand over the lines worn into his face. "Her Harrowing is to be soon. Will it be safe?" Worry tinged his voice.

"It will be fine."

"Providing she doesn't fail," Greagoir said reproachfully.

"Yes, providing she doesn't fail," Irving agreed. "She won't fail," he added, a bit more confidently.

Greagoir moved to the door. He paused, looking back over his shoulder at Irving. "I will have a word with the boy." The First Enchanter answered him with a nod. "Irving," the Knight-Commander entreated, "I don't want him to know about this other development."

"Of course," Irving nodded his acquiescence.

* * *

Cullen stood, nervously twitching his fingers as he gazed down at Greagoir's impassive expression. The Knight-Commander looked tiredly at him.

"You understand what it means, that her Harrowing will be soon?"

Cullen swallowed. So this wasn't about his…indiscretion. A small hope bloomed in his chest that perhaps the Knight-Commander would never find out.

"Yes," he said, a bit more confidently, "Miss Amell will be moved to the Mage quarters after her Harrowing."

"Indeed," Greagoir's eyes studied him carefully. "I called you here because I have a task for you, involving Sha -," he cleared his throat, "Miss Amell's Harrowing."

"Her Harrowing, Ser?" Cullen's brow furrowed in confusion. Templars weren't directly involved in a mage's Harrowing. Not unless they were…oh no. He swallowed, his face draining of color.

Greagoir nodded, "You understand, then?"

"Please, Knight-Commander, don't ask this of me," Cullen pleaded. "I cannot! I will not!" Tear drops pricked the corners of his eyes.

"You can and you will," Greagoir shouted, slamming his gauntleted hand onto his desk with a clang as he stood, chair crashing to the ground with a bang behind him. Fury and sympathy warred across the older man's face. "You will do your duty as a templar, or you will watch as someone else does it, do you understand," the sudden softness of the Knight-Commander's voice did nothing to hide the deadly steel of his thinly veiled threat.

His breath hitching, Cullen nodded, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Greagoir gave a curt nod. "You understand then," he turned his back, unwilling to look the young templar in the face, "if she should succumb, you are to end it."

"Yes, Knight-Commander."

Greagoir sighed, closing his eyes. "And you understand that should her Harrowing succeed, you are to end it?"

"Yes, I…What?" Cullen's jaw dropped open in disbelief. He ran a hand through his curly hair, frowning at the Knight-Commander's back. "You can't seriously be asking me to…to…to murder," he spat the word, "Shattered after she completes her Harrowing? That's…That's…"

"That is not what I'm telling you, Ser Cullen," Greagoir sighed, his gaze wandering over the shelves of ledgers behind his desk. "I am telling you that you must end _it_. And don't patronize me by acting as though there is nothing to end," a hint of anger entered his voice as he turned back toward his subordinate. His brows drew together in consternation, "Don't think I don't know what goes on with my own templars. You must end it. Before the Chantry Sisters find out," weariness passed over his features. "Maker knows what they would do, to the both of you."

Cullen tried to swallow the lump in his throat, scrubbing roughly at his cheeks. "I understand," he said brokenly. Haunted eyes looked up to meet those of the Knight-Commander. "She will never forgive me, you know? For being the one to…to deliver the killing blow, should she fail."

"I know, son," Greagoir reached down to pick up his chair. "Such is the life of a templar."

* * *

Anders was slowly circling the confines of his cell when Sha and Neria made their way through the door and into the holding area.

"Hey, beautiful," he perked up spotting Neria balancing the tray holding his lunch in front of her.

Neria smirked, giving her hair a flip as she sauntered over to the smiling mage.

Then he spotted Shattered, nervously wringing her hands, and the smile faded.

"Well," his voice dripped sarcasm, "if it isn't the First Enchanter's pet. To what do I owe this dubious pleasure? Did they send you to give me a lecture? Convert me into a Circle worshipper like you," he snorted in disgust. "No thanks, I'll just take the sandwich, if you please."

"Now Anders," Neria scolded, "don't be like that. Our little Shattered has been turning into a woman while you've been locked away down here." She smiled lasciviously, but Anders just grunted, popping a grape into his mouth from the tray.

"Please," Shattered asked quietly, moving forward to stand near the bars of Anders' cage. Her arm crossed over her stomach, she raised her eyes to hesitantly meet his. "I need your help."

Letting out a noisy sigh, he stood, scratching at his chin. "Well, out with it, then. What do you need?"

Shattered mumbled under her breath, cheeks blazing with embarrassment and eyes darting to the side.

"Dammit girl," Anders cried out, crossly. "I can't help you if I can't hear you!"

Furious violet eyes snapped back to Anders bright amber ones.

"I want you to check to see if I'm pregnant," she said loudly, hands darting up to clamp over her mouth as she realized how forcefully it had come out.

Anders smirked. "What, someone's finally broken through your chastity belt? Why come to me? Have one of the other Mages or Enchanters check for you," he started to turn away when a thought stopped him, "unless…it's father is someone it shouldn't be," he slowly turned back toward her. "Someone…like a templar."

Anders snarled, pushing forward, his arm snaking out between the bars to wrap around Sha and pull her close, surprising a squeak out of her. His other hand went between the bars to press between her hips right above the pubic bone.

Shattered struggled against his grip, surprise and fear rushing through her veins.

"Stop moving, I am only doing as you asked," he ground out, stilling her, something dark filling his voice. Closing his eyes, Anders sent a tentative trickle of magic into Sha's belly. Dejected, he slumped to his knees, releasing Shattered so she could step back. He swallowed thickly, looking up at her with hurt in his eyes.

"You are with child," he said quietly, voice cracking. Anger hardened his features. "With a templar's child." He surged to his feet, grabbing the front of Sha's robes through the bars, pulling her toward him. "Did he force you? Where you raped," his lip curled in distaste.

"No, I –"

"They shouldn't get away with this, you know. The Templars, the Chantry, the Circle. It's all just a prison. Mages like you and I, we should be free. Free to love whom we wish, free to marry whom we wish, free to –"

"ANDERS!" Shattered looked at him in consternation. "I wanted to be with him. He didn't force me."

Surprise lit the mages face as he staggered slightly under the revelation. "You…wanted to be with him? To be with a templar," his voice was filled with anguish. "Why? Why would you do such a thing?"

Shattered smiled slightly, bowing her head to gaze at her fingers. "I think I love him," she said quietly. She looked back to Anders with a shrug. "You said you wanted to love whomever you wished? I wish to love him."

Anders turned his back on them, his shoulders bowed in grief. His voice was rough when it reached Sha's ears. "Go. Now. You have your answer."

Neria smiled lightly, shrugging and taking Sha's hand to lead her out of the holding area.

"Thank you," Sha called lightly over her shoulder.

The girls were long gone before Anders moved again, sighing and slouching onto his cot to wipe at tear stained cheeks.

"All this time," he whispered, "all for nothing. If only," he bit his lip, "if only I could've found a way sooner." He closed his eyes, picturing Shattered hunched over a book in the corner of the library while he watched her from afar.

Anders clenched his teeth, thumping the side of his fist against the rock wall beside him. All that escaping, all that planning, trying to find a way to get Shattered out where she could live and breathe and they could be free together. All for nothing, he shook his head bitterly.


	9. It's Harrowing

"Could you…could we just…stop. For a moment. Please," Cullen called, taking his helm off and leaning against the cool stone wall of the hall leading to the apprentice quarters. Carroll stopped, turning to look quizzically back at him.

Closing his eyes, Cullen willed his nerves to calm. Knight-Commander Greagoir had woken him barely half an hour ago, calling him to armor up – it was time. Swallowing his nerves, Cullen had just nodded, knowing exactly what Greagoir was talking about. Now, though, walking down the hall to wake Shattered, the butterflies were sending waves of nausea through him. The delicious stew he'd had for dinner sat heavy in his belly, feeling disgusting as it congealed.

Wiping the cold sweat away from his forehead, Cullen fought the urge to vomit.

"Uhh, you're not coming down with something, are you? Because if you are, I'm not so sure I want to stand near you. Nothing personal, it just might be," Carroll shrugged, "catchy."

"Uh, no. I…umm…I just," Cullen paused, swallowing against the bile rising in his throat, "Just give me a moment, will you?" He turned his back to Carroll, taking a ragged breath that did nothing to help settle his nerves.

"Oh, I get it," Carroll replied, sudden enlightenment lending compassion to his voice. "We're going for _her_ aren't we?" Sympathy filled his eyes. "I feel for you, man. I really do," he scuffed a toe at a dust mote on the floor of the passage. He shrugged, his plate armor unnecessarily loud in their quite surroundings, making Cullen cringe. "It's all over the Templar wing, you know? How Greagoir ordered you to be the one. The first time is always the hardest, they say," he patted Cullen's shoulder comfortingly.

That gave Cullen a brief amount of relief. Carroll, like the others, had thought his nervousness came from being the one chosen to end it in case Shattered fell to a demon during her harrowing, and not from the fact that it was _her_ harrowing.

"Buck up, chap. Happy thoughts, eyes of the Maker, in His name and all that," Carroll smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

Cullen snorted, shaking his head. Sometimes he wondered if his friend was getting a touch lyrium addled already.

"Alright," he replied, settling his helm back into place. "Let's go." With a nod, the two resumed their way toward the apprentice quarters. Each step made his body feel heavier, weighed down by his armor, by his very faith. Could the Maker, and Andraste, really want this? Could they really want him to kill…to snuff out the life of someone as sweet and beautiful as Sha? Her life had already been so full of pain. Cullen felt each step through his bones, reverberating from the soles of his feet to the base of his skull where it stuck, aching in the back of his head where his doubts lay, picking at his mind.

Far sooner than he wanted, they arrived at the door that would lead him to Shattered.

"I'll, umm…I'll just stay here while you get her, if it's all the same to you," Carroll said.

Nodding gravely, Cullen pushed the door open lightly. Quietly, he stepped into the darkened room, making his way to Shattered's bedside. He gazed down at her, a small bit of starlight shining through the window to light her face, peaceful in her dreams. Careful to make as little noise as possible, Cullen knelt at her bedside; pulling one of his gauntlets off to reach a shaking hand out, his trembling fingers reverently touching lavender hair. Moving a wisp of hair from her cheek, Cullen memorized the feel of her skin against his fingers, the silkiness of her hair. He pulled in a deep breath, letting the smell of raspberries tickle his brain.

"Shattered," he whispered softly, his hand cupping her cheek, thumb softly tracing over delicate lips. She moaned softly in her sleep, sending a flush across the templar's face as his blood heated, flaming through his veins. Pulling his hand away, Cullen coughed slightly, embarrassed at his bodies reaction. "Shattered," he whispered again, louder, unwilling to reach out to her again for fear of any more traitorous reactions he might have.

"Hmmm? I…what?" Sha mumbled, rubbing a hand groggily across her eyes. She blinked up at him, a slight tremble in her lip the only indication of her fear as she pulled her blanket up to her chin.

"Sha," Cullen said softly, reassured when she relaxed and smiled sleepily up at him. "It's time."

Understanding lit in her eyes, followed by a flash of fear and then sorrow as her smile faded, mouth drawn into a tight line. She nodded, throwing her blanket off and swinging her legs over the side of the bed to stand, her nightgown clinging lightly to her delicate frame. There was only one reason the templars would be coming to get her in the middle of the night. Once she left this room, took their test, there would be no going back. Never again would she be who she was in this very moment. Shattered looked down at herself, wondering if she would miss the person she was.

Her harrowing.

Offering a sad smile to Cullen, she turned to her footlocker, gathering her robes.

"Do you intend to watch me dress, Ser Cullen, or do you trust me to join you in the hall when I'm finished," Sha asked playfully, glancing at him shyly over her shoulder.

For the second time in as few minutes, Cullen was grateful for the closed face of the templar helm hiding the flush on his cheeks. Pulling his gauntlet back on, Cullen thumbed over his shoulder to the hallway.

"I'll..uh…I'll just be waiting. Outside," he ducked his head and turned quickly away, mind burning with the image of Shattered. Standing there in her white nightgown. Soft fabric hugging to her gentle curves. Maker help him. Cullen hurried into the hallway.

* * *

Shattered offered a tentative smile as she followed after Cullen a few moments later. Carroll gave her a jaunty wave before gesturing for her to proceed them down the hall.

"She'll be fine," Carroll whispered as they climbed the never ending stairs to the Harrowing Chamber.

"Maker, I hope so," Cullen answered. "What they ask of me," he paused shaking his head, "I'm not sure I can do."

Shrugging, Carroll looked to him, "I'm not sure that's your choice," he nodded to Shattered as she continued climbing ahead of them. "It's completely up to her whether you will need to..," Carroll trailed off, eyes locking with Cullen's through the slit in their helms, "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that, shall we?"

Cullen paused, clutching convulsively at his stomach while the butterflies churned up a fresh batch of raw nerves as he watched Carroll cheerfully continue after Sha. If she couldn't withstand the demons…he would have to do something he didn't want to. He didn't know if he would be able to, or if he could forgive himself if he did. It was a test for him, too.

His harrowing.

There it was. The top of the stairs. The door. Shattered reached forward hesitantly, laying her palm against wood worn with age. Beyond this lay her future, or her death. There was no turning back. She wondered briefly if she would see this side of the door again once she passed through, and then Carroll was there, brushing past her and pushing the door open as he continued on into the chamber ahead of her.

"Good luck," Cullen whispered from behind her, his hand gently touching her arm.

Her smile trembled slightly as she looked back at him, her heart pounding in her ears. Squaring her shoulders, she walked in.

Greagoir and Irving turned toward her; Sha smiled. They were proud of her, she knew. The two men who had supported her the most, no matter how inconspicuously. They believed in her ability, that she would be successful in her Harrowing, and so she must believe in herself as well.

"You're magic is a gift, but also a curse," Greagoir addressed her, willing her to understand the necessity of this final test. "The demons of the fade are drawn to you. They seek to use you as a gateway to this world. Especially a mage like you, Shattered," gently, the Knight-Commander reached out, resting his hand on Sha's face, cupping her cheek much how Cullen had moments before.

"It is not often we see one so young with your potential," Irving clarified. "They will be drawn to you like a moth to the flame. The ritual will send you into the fade. Armed with only your will, you will face a demon." Irving's voice took on a hard edge, "You must defeat it. You must prove your ability to resist."

Shattered nodded her understanding. Greagoir fidgeted slightly, looking uncomfortable.

"You must resist," he said fervently. "If you don't," he shook his head, reluctant to continue. Finally, he reached out, gripping her shoulders firmly, almost painfully. "If you don't, you will turn into an abomination, and we will be forced to slay you." He gave her a light shake. "Do you understand, girl?" His voice dropped, "I don't want to see that. Not you, I couldn't stand it. Do you understand?"

Numbly, Shattered nodded again, her voice gone. She had known before that would be her fate if she failed, but to hear it said out loud forced it from the dark corners of her mind. Briefly, her imagination flashed on the image of Cullen, kneeling over her limp body while he held her slight form with one hand on her back between her shoulder blades, the other on the grip of his sword, its tip resting on the ground and its blade against her neck. A shiver went through her body, goose bumps covering her arms as she swallowed convulsively, running a hand over her throat where she imagined she could already feel his blade, her eyes searching among the templars in attendance to pick him out.

Shaking herself, Shattered made an effort to focus on Greagoir's words.

"This is lyrium," he told her, gesturing to a pedestal, smoky tendrils drifting down its sides. "The very essence of magic, and your gateway into the fade."

"Keep your wits about you, things are not what they seem. Remember," Irving advised, "the fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."

"Every mage must go through this trial," Greagoir told her. "As they have succeeded, so will you. I have no doubt."

"There is nothing more we can do to aid you," Irving told her, gently. "Once you enter the fade you will be on your own."

"She will succeed," Greagoir told Irving firmly. "You are ready." His gaze was steady as he looked at her, his voice confident.

Shattered smiled. She wished she was as sure of her success as he was. Reaching out, she gave Irving's hand a soft squeeze, and offered Greagoir a bright smile before walking forward to the pedestal.

Reaching out, Shattered spread her hand wide over the lyrium. Her magic reacted, pulling at her as it strained toward the lyrium, surging through her. The lyrium seemed just as eager to get to her magic, the tendrils she'd seen earlier reaching toward her hand, wrapping around her.

Sha made a face. Where the magic and lyrium touched, intertwining, she felt tingling. Prickles along her skin and in her blood, it resonated in her bones. She gasped as her magic and the lyrium had its way, ripping her consciousness from her body to the fade, leaving her physical form to collapse into Greagoir's waiting arms.

"Knight-Commander, Ser," Cullen called nervously, stepping forward as Greagoir and Irving carefully lay Sha on the chamber floor as comfortably as they could.

"Yes, Ser Cullen," Greagoir answered absently, his eyes locked to Shattered's closed lids as her eyes darted back and forth under them, looking at something in the fade he couldn't fathom.

"What you said…before…to Sh…Miss Amell. Did you mean it, Ser?"

Greagoir's brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what the young templar could mean. "About her succeeding," he asked tentatively, a slight smile gracing his face at Cullen's enthusiastic nod. Standing, Greagoir put a reassuring hand to the younger man's shoulder.

"I meant every word of it."


	10. Valor

_"Things are not what they seem."_

Irving's words echoed through Shattered's head as she groaned, pushing herself into a sitting position from the ground she was laying on. That was certainly...different, she thought. Although, with all the things the apprentices had been told of the Fade, she wasn't exactly sure what she had expected. Dangerous pitfalls, hungry demons at every corner and extravagant treats to tempt her, but nothing as mundane as opening her eyes to find herself laying on the ground. Taking a deep breath, Sha wondered distractedly if she only thought she was taking a deep breath, or if her body had actually done it as it lay on the tower floor. It was pretty disconcerting to think of being in two places at once; Shattered put a hand to her forehead, frowning as she rubbed at it, willing a wave of dizziness to pass. Did all mages feel this way when first entering the Fade, or was it caused by the new life growing within her?

Drawing her mouth into a determined line, Sha struggled to her feet. While she didn't think time spent here would put the babe at risk, there was no point in dallying. Just in case. Besides, she put a hand to her throat, swallowing nervously; there was really no need to give the Templars reason to doubt her return. Centering herself to calm the anxiety churning in her stomach, Shattered opened her eyes to gaze across the hazy, shifting landscape before her. Unwilling to simply wait for a demon to come find her, because who knows how long that would take, Shattered took a hesitant step forward. She smiled, relieved that her silly notion that the ground would simply dissolve beneath her feet hadn't been true. Squaring her shoulders, Sha held her head high and stepped out more confidently, eager to find her release from the Harrowing.

Sparks, wisps, whatever you chose to call them, they were barely more than a puff of smoke. Shattered frowned as another one dissipated before her. Surely these weak things weren't what she'd been sent here to fight. If they hadn't attacked her first, she would've been inclined to let them be. But they wouldn't let her pass, and she couldn't just let them continue to attack her, so it had been a simple thing to dispose of them.

There had to be something more that she was missing. She frowned, looking around suspiciously. Had she been so nervous that she'd missed a vital bit of information on how the Harrowing was supposed to work? Searching through her memories, Sha tried to pick out the bits of conversation she'd been too anxious to pay attention to. Perhaps there had been a 'Ring the bell' or 'Knock three times' in there somewhere that would summon the demon she was to face.

"Someone else thrown to the wolves," a sly voice startled her from nearby and Sha cursed herself for being taken by surprise as her narrowed eyes spotted the brown ball of fur at her feet.

"_Things are not what they seem."_ Irving's words rang through her head again as she watched the talking rat shift into a man. A shiver ran up Shattered's spine, her skin itched like bugs were crawling across her flesh. Something about this creature was…off, to say the least. While its words seemed plausible, it made her feel like someone had stepped on her grave. Taking a deep breath, Sha mentally bolstered her defenses. Despite how…helpful…this Mouse seemed to be, there was no point in being naïve. In the fade, it would be easy to be distracted by the obvious threat while overlooking the greater danger of a traitorous snake at your heel.

"You mentioned other spirits here," Sha asked cautiously.

"Yes," Mouse answered eagerly, "There are some…minor spirits that reside in this section of the fade. They are inconsequential, though," he said firmly. "They are not your opponent. If you would like, it couldn't hurt for you to talk with them," he smiled at her, eyes glittering and making Sha's skin prickle again.

"Lead the way," she told him firmly, eyes locked unwaveringly on his.

"But I…You...," a grimace of displeasure flickered across his face before Mouse was able to cover it with a carefully neutral expression. "As you wish," he nodded acquiescence, outline blurring as he made the shift from man back to mouse.

"What is that," Shattered asked breathlessly as they topped a small rise, momentarily forgetting her wariness as her eye travelled over an island floating in the distance.

"That is the Black City," Mouse informed her solemnly, whiskers twitching as he followed her gaze. "They say it has been empty since the Magisters of the ancient Imperium tainted it with their presence."

Shattered stood there, dumbfounded. Even from their great distance from the city, she could still see the grand towers and spires, stretching upward in their corrupt glory, reaching toward the sky.

"Can we go there," she asked softly, imagining the Golden City from Chantry lore – the seat of the Maker.

Mouse snorted at her. "None have entered the City since the Tevinters."

Shattered came back to herself with a start. The Chantry wasn't likely to let mages forget how that venture had turned out anytime soon. She grimaced as she looked down, noting how uncomfortably close Mouse had gotten while she had been preoccupied. A brief notion of kicking the creature flittered through her mind, drawing the corners of her mouth up as she wondered if she could send him over the edge of their little bit of the fade and what would happen…after. Was there a bottom, somewhere, down there? Or would there just be endless falling?

A wave of nausea swept through Sha, causing her to wobble slightly on her feet as she doubled over clutching her stomach.

"Are you well," Mouse asked, innocent enough for a show of concern, but Shattered's mouth pulled into a grim line. She had seen the greedy glitter in his beady little eye as they passed appraisingly over her slim form.

"I'm fine," she straightened with determination. It was time to get out of here; the more time she spent in the Fade the more danger her child was in, she could feel it. "You were showing me the way to one of these spirits," she prodded.

"Ah, yes," Mouse's sneer was evident in his voice. "Valor. He's rather talky. I doubt he'd be much help at all. We should just skip talking to him; he'll simply bore you to death," he gave Sha a sly sidelong glance. "If you're not dead already."

"I will be the judge of how useful he is," Shattered replied haughtily. She narrowed her eyes at the small mouse. "It will take more than insinuation to make me give up."

Mouse's fur bristled. "We shall see," he snarled moving off toward a campfire in the distance.

* * *

"Another mortal thrust unwittingly into the flame, I see."

A soothing calm surged through Shattered as the words of the spirit washed over her. Ducking her head, Sha let a slight smile curve her lips. For the first time since entering the Fade, she felt she could relax. She wondered at herself, that a spirit who resembled a templar could be a source of comfort.

"That you remain indicates the demon you were sent to battle still lives. It is trapped here, as you are, until one of you has been defeated. I wish you a glorious battle," Valor inclined his head respectfully.

Looking around, Shattered's eyes widened at the racks of weaponry surrounding the spirit. "Did you make all of these," she asked, slightly awed.

"They are brought into being by my will," a hint of pride could be found in his voice.

"Your will," Shattered asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Indeed. In this realm, everything that exists is the expression of a thought," Valor gestured to the racks. "Do you think that these blades be steel? The staves be wood? Do you believe they draw blood? They are only as strong as the mind that wields them."

"_The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."_ Shattered shook herself, the words ghosting through her mind.

"Could I make a weapon as you do," she asked tentatively, glancing to the spirit.

"Just use one of his," Mouse insisted. "Pick one and let's be off."

It was tempting, Sha had to admit, to simply pluck a readymade staff from one of the weapon racks behind Valor, but it felt wrong.

"No," she shook her head regretfully. "They are Valor's weapons, made by his will. I must defeat the demon on my own," she smiled at the spirit. "Using one of your weapons would feel like cheating."

Valor nodded approvingly. "Very well said. I am certain you will have no trouble willing your own weapon into being. Your need is great, and your will is strong. You have shown a truly honorable soul." Gesturing her closer to his campfire, Valor nodded for Sha to sit.

"That's it? I just sit here," she looked to the spirit for direction.

"Look inside yourself, mortal," Valor directed her. "Think of your need for a weapon, of what you must do with that weapon and why. Your will will make it real."

Shattered folded her legs, shifting on the ground to get comfortable. She moved her hands to rest palm up across her knees before closing her eyes. A malicious glee washed across her consciousness, snapping Sha's eyes open to meet the two greedy, sly orbs of Mouse as he had crept closer to the mage.

"I don't think this will work," Sha said, despairing that her voice shook a little, revealing her fear.

"Do not worry, mortal," Valor said, stepping forward to stand next to her. "I shall watch over you during this time; no harm will come to you. You have my word; none shall pass so long as I am here."

Shattered looked up, a grateful smile brightening her face. Valor nodded to her then turned his gaze back to Mouse.

Closing her eyes, Shattered directed her thoughts inward, ignoring the shrieking gibber of madness at the edge of her consciousness. Whatever Mouse was, he wouldn't be able to get to her, not now.

Valor watched over her.


End file.
